Disregard

Is being disregarded even a kink, a fetish?  I don't know, but if it is, I'm sure I have it.   At the same time as I love feeling special, feeling desired, he also purposely at times disregards me.  

 Last night, my birthday.   He made me a cake (mmmm- yeah, he can bake- once a year he does, except for last year).

Then he turned on the porn videos and put the laptop on the bed.   I sucked him off while he watched video of other people fucking.   I felt the humiliation of this situation keenly.  I'm certainly not immune to jealousy.  But instead of anger or any other emotion, it brings  me a torment of pleasure, this sharp pang of jealousy goes straight to my cunt.  I enjoy pleasing him, and I enjoy being disregarded by him.  I enjoy feeling him inside me while he ignores me and only watches the people on the screen.  When he was done, and left to go to the bathroom, I was still so horny I was humping the blankets.  I could not come without his permission though, as much as I tried, at the last minute I could not.

He came back and began to play his game on the computer.  I lay next to him, looking up at him, desperate in heat.  He played the game and at the same time he kicked me hard in the butt.  Repeatedly.  This turned me on also.   I would have done anything- murder, robbery, tax evasion- anything, to get fucked at that moment.

Then he looked down at me and said "You are so cute when I beat you".    I asked if I could get him a cane, the only implement we brought on our vacation.   I wasn't really expecting to have a private room.   

"Sure, " he says, "I would enjoy that."

I brought the cane and lay on my stomach next to him.   He placed the mouse on my back and used it for a bit that way to play the game.   He began a slow warm up with the cane.   And still the game, somehow.   Harder and harder, he beat me, making me come on his command a few times as I got to the edge and started that breathing pattern I know he recognizes. 

He had me flip over and he caned my breasts, and spread my legs to hit my cunt.   I had countless orgasms, each one on his command.

This morning I got to appreciate my bruises and think on how he makes me feel loved, cherished, appreciated and completely disregarded all on the same day, even in the same minute.  

 

Feeling The Dominance

Just about every slave or submissive I know who is in a long term, live together relationship, at times feels they need more.  More dominance, more orders, more structure.  For Dominants or Masters, these things tend to go in natural cycles, from what I've observed and heard from others.  

  It can be very difficult for a submissive person to say "Sir, I need more...".   It just feels wrong to us.  Besides the fact that actually receiving more can be quite painful 0_o.

 Generally, if one waits patiently, the dominance level, play frequency or intensity, number of orders or what ever is just a little lacking will come back up to the level that one's Dominant or Master typically enjoys.

This is not one of those times for me.   

Lately I have felt his dominance in such a way that when I go out to the store I feel almost as if everyone else can see the word "slave" branded on my forehead and they are just too polite to say anything.   

It is disconcerting (in public) and reassuring (inside myself) at the same time.   

Some Posts Are Just Impossible

He told me if that was the best rebellion I could muster,  I was well and truly broken.   I don't know if he meant broken as a horse is broken to ride, or broken as in having no will of my own.  It doesn't much matter which he meant after all.   I feel both.

Everything is a result of everything else.  

The emotions of the previous blog post (Summoned) were a result of yesterday.

Last night as I was lying in bed, dog tired and nearly asleep, the impulse (going quickly from a nagging thought to a mental requirement) to spring up and head downstairs to ask if he needed anything was a result of the events of earlier that morning.

Before that, my feelings of broken-ness were mingled with the surety that this is how it is meant to be.  This is who I am.  Is it a cliche to say that broken-ness is a whole-ness?  

Before that, a tearful confession and apology, which made him happy.




And then

A punishment, actually two punishments, which brought us closer together like a thunderstorm brings electricity and then clarity. 

After the punishments, I adored having him address my feelings, show that he appreciated me more than I knew, and then throw me metaphorically to the ground in abject submission to his right to use me, overwork me and under appreciate me as he chooses.    

Before that, utter verbal humiliation had already brought me tears.  This was unrelated to anything I had done wrong.  This is "fun" for us.  

Earlier in the morning, I had neglected something I knew I should do, which led to some rough treatment and being reminded of my duties.

Before that, I was perhaps absent minded, perhaps tired, and perhaps feeling a tiny bit rebellious Sunday morning. 


Now, I remember.  Now I am clear.





 

Summoned

He paused on his way toward the stairs and crooked his finger at me with a significant look.  I leapt up from the table to follow him upstairs.   Once the door was locked behind us he told he wanted to see me naked before he left for work.  I dropped my robe, and he stroked and kissed me.   He told me I was beautiful, then pushed me to my knees.  

I worshiped his cock the way I worship his whole self, putting my whole body into the act.   Listening to his moans, and feeling the way his body reacted was the ultimate enticement.   

Afterward, I felt like kneeling again and kissing his foot.  The great thing is, I just went ahead and did it and not only did he accept my worship he encouraged it by placing his foot on the back of my neck and ordering me to orgasm.  One more time, after many had been allowed/demanded from me already this morning, I came.    

I absolutely revel in being his.  

Your Ass is Mine

After a random bout of surprise anal sex Master commented:

"I think I made my point."

I, confused, asked "What, Master?"

"Your ass is mine."


So it is. 

First Impression

"You should let her bite you" were practically the first words we heard about Mystique's friend, Ms. J.  

Master gave me the go ahead.  I sat on the bed and she pulled her chair up close to me.  All I could see were her eyes as she drew me in.   My heart beat faster and my eyes widened as she stroked my hair.   We were balanced in a moment.

I was soothed into tranquility as her hand found the back of my head.   With practiced grace she tightened her hand in my hair.  My breath caught as she pulled my head firmly to the side to expose my neck.  I was inflamed by unexpected desire.   She leaned in, her eyelids lowering, and took hold of the top of my shoulder with her teeth.  She bit down hard and just as I began to wince her hand tightened and gave a slight shake at the nape of my neck, refocusing my attention and taking away some of the pain.

Mystique told her I would come on command to the name of a state. 

 Ms. J began naming states seductively in my ear.  "Wyoming.  Utah.  Alaska".   Imagine a breathy phone sex voice, full of temptation, promise.

I gave her a hint, not quite daring to give it away, but wanting to hear it.

 "It is one close to us.  In the Midwest". 

"Ohio.  Indiana.  Minnesota"..................

Then, as if she had known the right one all along, her voice grew stronger, commanding, but still a whisper in my ear: 

"Iowa." 

 I bucked and rocked in ecstasy; her hand was still in my hair.  Then she repeated the whole thing on the other side, leaving two matching bitemarks on me.  

When I had recovered my senses I smiled and introduced myself to her. 

Some women know how to make a first impression.  

Friday Night at the Dungeon

After dinner (we had gone out to our favorite Middle Eastern restaurant) we cleaned up, rested some and then headed out for playtime.  

First, fire!   

Mystique was set up to burn people, and very quickly she had me on her bench.  I got the fire wand, some cupping and some fire spanking!  Which was new, and very hot!   Lighting her special glove on fire, she'd spank out the fire on my butt.  I loved it, and it sent me quite spacey.   Master held my wrists tight because for some reason I was struggling hard.  The tighter he held me the more I struggled.  I didn't really want to get away, I was just really into struggling. 

Then she had me flip over and said she was going to do the flaming cooter OF FUN again.   I had my head pillowed against S's boobs, and my butt scooched to the edge of the table.  It was a lot like the gyno where they always tell you to scoot down to the end a little more.  I think I did make that comment out loud.

Master held my hands, which were clutched in front of my chest.   S was supporting my head, mmm, pilllow boobs.   But I was thinking mostly about my knees, which kept trying to clap together of their own accord.   I was admonished by both Master and Mystique to keep my legs apart and HOLD STILL.  

Then the big flash and heat and done. Yay!  No, just almost done.
One more big flash and painful heat and now it is really done.  

I was very shaky and spacey, and shook my head at the suggestion that I could get up now.  I stayed sitting for a while until I thought I was ok, then got some big hugs to help hold me upright as I stood.   

There was some wandering around wrapped in a blanket, watching all sorts of depraved and delicious activities.

Then a massage table opened up and Master was ready to tie me up.  We had been to a Shibari class earlier, and he wrapped me up in rope in various revealing positions, then when I was tied he hit me with things.  For the second position, I was on my back with my feet up in the air.   Mystique came over and beat my nipples, mainly the right one, with a crop quite thoroughly, while Master worked on my thighs. 

A while after that, J. (a good friend) came over with clamps shaped like cows and attached them to my boob.  That cracked me up.  What a situation to be in- tied up, helpless, legs in the air, with tiny cows biting my boob.   They are chip bag clips.  I had to ask.  

After a few more different ties, and other body parts beaten, Master untied me and we headed up to our room.  He didn't tie me up again there, but he did require me to get in those same positions again for his use. 

He's definitely planning to look into practicing more Shibari (Japanese style rope bondage).   The next class we went to in the morning was Shibari as torture, and was a bit more unsettling to me (because Master loved it.  And... torture.)  It was a great class though.  Am I a little bit of a sadist if I enjoy watching other people get tortured?

Caned into Oblivion

I will get back to writing about MTKF next time.   But this is clamoring to get out now and I usually listen to my clamoring writing voices.  

Last night Master decided to cane me, and I was very eager, since I was craving it bad after watching the caning demos. 

He put me face down on the bed, instead of my usual position standing and gripping the dresser.   He told me to bite the pillow if I had to, but not to make any noises. 

He began with a long warm up, and then some medium strokes, and some hard ones that made me gasp and bite my pillow.   When I was good and sore he started the ladder game.   To explain:  starting at "one" each increasing set of strikes is a rung on a ladder.   

One.   
One, two.  
One, two, three.  
One, two, three, four.  
And so on to the top of the ladder.  

 He didn't tell me how high the ladder he was climbing was going to be.    You know, of course, or I knew, from the caning class, that once you are at the top of the ladder, you have to climb back down.   I'm not a math person, but by counting on my fingers I figure that a ladder six rungs high has 42 cane strokes.

When he got to rung 9, he told me that if I could give him the best blowjob of his life, he would not go on to rung 10.  

A glimmer of hope offered?  

 I had just barely started when he pushed me back down, saying "Nope, that's not it". 

Rung 10 was extremely fast and hard, giving me no time to breathe, hyperventilating against my pillow, starting to sob.  Then he slowed it down.   Pause a minute.   I floated away into subspace.  I know he went down the ladder and delivered all the strokes, but I can't remember much of it.  I know he made me orgasm several times, after I begged him.

Then he was fucking me from behind, lasting absolutely forever, banging up against my sore butt, such an intense and pleasurably painful ride.

Things Don't Go As Planned

Well, we had several things planned for MadTownKinkFest.   Unfortunately, due to various reasons that were nobody's fault, they did not happen.

However, many things that we did not plan at all DID happen, and we had a really great time.  If I were not such a planner, and so psyched up, this would have been excellent.  As it is, I'm dealing with it and trying to put the best spin possible on it for my own self.  
We got to see many awesome friends and reconnect, and make a few new friends.   I got to meet fellow blogger Pieces Of Jade and see her awesomely beautiful pony gear.  As well as see her Master "W" drive her like a pro.   My Master held out his hand to her and got nuzzled.   This is the kind of horse he likes because he's super allergic to the real ones.  It took me back to when I was a kid and used to pretend I was a horse, with all the mannerisms, galloping around, neighing etc.

Jade's website:
 
Kinky and Poly 

Friday
 
The first thing after registration and checking into our hotel room was a kinky icebreaker class.   Master had chosen it, and I went along, not thinking about it too much, but when they told us what the game was, I felt like bolting out of the room.  We were supposed to write down something that we would do to someone (anyone!) in the room or that they could to do us.   Well, hell, I don't know these people, most of them, I don't want to do anything with them except maybe shake hands.   Maybe.   I had some serious ice going on that needed breaking.   

I told Master I might like to just sit this one out, and watch others play.  So he took my card and wrote on it, then made me put it in the bucket.   "I would like to receive a light bare bottom spanking" was what he wrote.  Ok then.  

The rounds went on and on, and my card was not drawn over and over again.  I put my name in for a few other people's wishes, on Master's orders, but my name was not drawn. 
 Each matched up set started with a tiny negotiation period, then they got exactly one minute to do whatever was on the card.  What people wrote on these cards ranged from hugs, to neck rubs, to face slapping, spanking and boob grabbing.  We were allowed to specify which gender we wanted to do it with, or leave it up to chance.  Master did not specify a gender on my card.  I'm not really sure what he wrote on his own card, but it was never drawn :(.  

 It was fun to watch, and I was getting more into the game spirit the more it went on.  

Then my card came up (bare bottom spanking-oooooo!!), and the bucket was passed around.  Anyone who wanted to spank me put their name card in another bucket and a name was picked out randomly-  which turned out to be the one man in the room that I actually knew besides my Master!

I didn't know him that well though, and I can tell you my heart was beating faster as I walked over to him.  We began our negotiations.  

Over the knee or not?  I thought for a second, then thought "WTH, over the knee, yes, I love that."   Then he said we'd do the number game.  I asked for an explanation, because I didn't remember what that was.   The spanking would start light, and increase up to where it was just right.  I would call out numbers according to how it felt to me.  The numbers have meanings:

1.  I can barely feel it.
2.  Very light
3.  Just about right
4.  A little too hard
5-whatever  I don't remember what those numbers meant because I wasn't planning to use them. 

Then came the hardest moment of all.  My flight response was trying to kick in, I wanted to make a run for the door, but I boldly hiked up my skirt, pulled down my panties and laid over his knee.  I was filled with all kinds of shame and embarrassment, but as soon as the spanking began I forgot all that and concentrated on giving out numbers.   

Spank, spank.  "One."
Spank, spank, spank "Two".
Spank, spank, spank, and so on for 30-ish seconds. 

  He asked me about a number, but I was getting into an "Oh, yes" happy state, and barely managed to squeak out "Three".    It stayed about that level for the rest of the minute.   I got up, rearranged my clothes, and thanked him, then scuttled back to my Master.   He looked approving.   

There were a few more rounds, then it was time to move on to the next class, which was Sex:  Shibari style! 



 

Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy!

Tomorrow is MTKF, and I'm bouncing off the walls excited today.   I spent the morning with Mystique, and while she packed we talked about all the stuff that is going to be happening, the classes and scenes planned and whatnot.  We went to the Farmer's Market and I bought rhubarb for my next pie.  

Now I have to make cookies to take along for snacks. (Oatmeal raisin).

Last night Master gave me a flogging, and it had been a while for that, a long while.   It sure felt good.  He also used the light switch (not the one that turns on the lights- a willow switch that is light and whippy), a solid switch, and then the hard strap.   I must have been in a fine frame of mind because even the hard strap felt good to me.   

Dancing off to make the cookies...

 

It is an Anniversary

Twenty years ago today on a warm sunny day we stood in a woodsy park at the edge of a lake and promised "In sickness and in health, in good times and bad... until death do us part" in front of a judge, our family, our friends, and even our dogs. 

I did not think this beautiful marriage would ever evolve into an even more beautiful enslavement, but it has, and I don't regret anything, except perhaps that we didn't discover TTWD sooner.  

This morning I awoke with Master over me, touching my cunt and shoving his cock in my mouth.   He fucked me hard and fast, then sprang out of bed to head out for work, leaving me feeling used and quite slavish.  

I stumbled up too, barely awake, still not really adjusted back to the Central Time Zone.  It is an incredibly beautiful day.  As a consequence I am unbearably sappy and nostalgic today.    

I sent this to Master's FB after he'd left to work, and then spent some time just listening to it over and over.   

Remember When 


I'm going to make some pie. 

How to Describe The Indescribable

So, as I do typically, I tried to write this blog in my head as I worked in the garden.   Pull a radish.  Imagine kneeling at my Master's feet.   Grab some weeds out of the loose sandy soil, slightly damp from this afternoon's rain shower.   Think of him jerking my head back with his hand in my hair, having fondled me to the brink of orgasm, and then commanding "Iowa".   Half my brain says "Huh?" and the rest of it cascades into an orgasm, with the hair grasp, the prior teasing, and that VOICE making it inevitable that I come, even without a command.   It sounded like a command, it was the right voice, but "Iowa"? 

I pick up the hoe.  Start chopping down a row of weeds.   Feeling the sensations of the night before all over again.  The endless teasing, as he pinched and twisted my nipples until my brain was floating into some other space, some region where there are only nipples and pain and ecstasy.

I check the peas for pods, and pull up a few onions for dinner.   The dirt crumbles away off the onions as I imagine Master hitting me, slapping and punching my breasts, caning my ass, sternly reprimanding me for trying to move a few centimeters away from the cane, bidding me to hold still and not try to escape.  

I was far into subspace, so that after he fucked me I simply passed out.  I didn't even reach for him or want a cuddle.  I just lay back and passed out, slept for I don't know how long and I think he did the same.   Eventually we woke to turn off lights and go to bed properly all cuddled together.  

I notice the beans are looking good this year.  I pick all the peas.  Time to put up the hoe and go inside to cook dinner now.   The blog is half written before I sit down at the computer. 

It is Coming Soon

As in THIS FRIDAY!

We  are going to MadTownKinkFest, and it will be our first time there.  On top of that, it is only our second big kink event, the first having been Twisted Tryst.

I'm getting pretty nervous now.  Ok, I have been scared for 2 months, but mostly I have been pretending I'm not.   Master is going to have me... dang, I can't even type it... well, he's going to share me.  Mystique is arranging it with people she trusts.  And I trust her.   I'll be blindfolded and not told who is involved.  It will be anonymous.   I won't know how many or who before, during or possibly even after.  I have never done anything like this before, and though on one hand I know I can do it, must do it, and would follow any order he gave me, on the other I'm afraid I will freak out and bolt.  He has promised to force me if necessary, and I'm ok with that.  I actually prefer to know that I don't have a choice rather than to think that I have options.  

So, I'm very excited about the event as a whole, and very nervous about this one thing.  I keep alternating between thinking it's not really going to happen, like maybe not enough volunteers will be found (really?!)  and thinking it might be fun.  Or horrible and scary.  Or fun and scary.   

Thrill of Power

Last night was incredible.  Amazing.  Mind blowing.

However, I'm not ready to write about it yet.  I don't know if others experience this the same way, but the more intense something is, the more time I need to process before I can just sit down and write.

Instead, I will leave you with a short conversation that has deeply affected me, as in sticking in my brain and won't leave me alone.

We were having sex Sunday night, and he was alternating between my cunt and my mouth.  

He asked me "Did I ever tell you why I have you suck my cock after I fuck you every time?"

I replied "No, Master"

Him "Did you know it is because you used to hate that and refuse to taste yourself that way?"

 Actually, I did know that.  I'm not sure how I knew, it is just one of those things that one knows without hearing it said.

Me:  "Yes, Master, I know".   

Him:  "The thrill of power is why I like it."

Me:  "Yes, Master".  squish squish 

Ahhhh, that is why this act turns me on too.  The thrill of his power. 

Fantasizing

I fantasize-- a lot!   I like to think of it as having a rich inner life.   

Going on a long boring drive, what else is there that is more pleasant to think about than past scenes or imagined future scenes with my Master. 

My favorite scenes to imagine lately are, in no particular order:

1.  Being on a leash.  Master pulls my neck toward him, shortening the leash and holding me captive that way.  He does this sometimes, and it is so hot.   I think about it a lot at other times. 

2.  Being under his foot.  I imagine him stepping on the leash as I lie on the ground so I am pinned to the floor.  Sometimes he is caning me.  I struggle, but I can't escape with my neck held down that way.   Sometimes it is not the leash under his foot but parts of my body: my neck, chest, cunt - it varies.

3. Being examined, and on display.   I imagine several women, including myself, led into a room where he waits.  In turn, we are handled and examined thoroughly as he decides which he wants.  

4.  Getting pissed on.  I think the less I describe this the better, for some readers, but anyway.... Yeah.  Hot. 

5.  Being fucked from behind.  And in front, sucking cock.  At the same time.  Oh my yes.  Sometimes I imagine two men, and sometimes it is Master and Myst, her with her strap on. 

6.  Ass sex.   Hmm, it has been a while.  Although on our vacation we managed to slip off for some private time and he went half way in my butt, after caning me, but then changed his mind.   Also, this was my first time of doing ATM.   It was, well... not as bad as I was afraid.   

7.  I think back about the party last week where he had me naked, on a leash, on all fours, acting as his foot stool.   Ahhhh, this is where I belong, eh?  

8.  Being whipped.   I think about this entirely too much.  How much is too much?   I don't really know, but the sound, the feel, the sting of the single tail-  I'm kind of obsessed by it. 

Do Me Like Fucking Iowa

We have been on vacation, with spotty internet and no real time to sit and write, but are now comfortably home.

On the way home we stopped in Des Moines because the kids are huge Bill Bryson fans.  Bill Bryson grew up in Des Moines, which makes it all hallowed ground to them, especially the old buildings and monuments.   I know, it is a little odd for an 8 and 12 year old to be fans of a humor travel writer, but they have read/listened to on CD In a Sunburned Country, A Walk in The Woods, and The Thunderbolt Kid countless times.  They have tried some of his other books, but those are their favorites.

Anyway, that is how we ended up wandering around downtown Des Moines in heat and humidity that seemed almost unbearable after the cool aridity of the Colorado Rockies.  Master was particularly taken with one statue, which I will get to below.


We were just lying in the dark when Master said, "Turn on the light, slave".  I didn't really know what was up; maybe he'd heard a mosquito or something.   He'd given every indication of being too tired from the long drive to want to do anything but go straight to sleep.

When I had flipped the light on he said "Get the curvy paddle and a towel".    I ducked my head and scurried to fetch those things.  Lying on the towel on my stomach, I felt him caress me slowly with the paddle.  A few taps and then stinging swats.  He gave me a good paddling, until I came several times, then had me get the camera and told me to "Fuck me like Iowa".  

The statue.

He wanted me to imitate the statue.

 So, self conciously, I attempted to imitate a statue representing the Plenty of Iowa.  It was rather embarrassing, especially as he was taking pictures of me at the time.   And giving directions:  stick your chest out, head tilt more, squeeze up higher....etc.

I would do anything for my Master, but sometimes his demands are more unusual and difficult than others.   

Emotions, What the Hell?

Alternatively titled:  Sometimes "rape" isn't enough.

Yesterday, Sunday, we woke bright and early.  Master immediately rolled over and said "Go make me breakfast."   I was horny, but that is normal, I always wake up that way.

 I, instead of saying what was on my mind ("Wanna fuck?"), said "Yes, Master, what would you like?"  

 "Pancakes".   

So I went to make some pancakes, and also sausages, tea and coffee.   We ate.  It was good.   Then Master did his own thing (playing Minecraft) and I did mine (playing on the internet), but I was hoping for a little attention still.   I came to his side, knelt at his feet, touched his sleeve, made "eyes" at him- you know the kind.

 I did everything allowable except say right out "Wanna fuck?"   Which I didn't say, because I was afraid of hearing a "No".   Possibly the stupidest reason ever not to ask, but there it is, I'm not always so smart.  


Interlude:   Read this blog:  http://youarenotsosmart.com/2011/08/21/the-illusion-of-asymmetric-insight/


Not to mention this one:   http://youarenotsosmart.com/2011/07/07/misattribution-of-arousal/

No worries if you didn't read them.  I'll probably run out of time/forget to explain how they all tie into my blog topic anyway.  Use your imagination.
 
 Now, back to Sunday morning.   I swept the floor, cleaned the kitchen, did some other stuff.   We were running out of time now, as we had guests coming at noon.    So I tried again to get Master's attention.  This time he let me sit on his lap, and I could tell he wanted me.  He made me get up, and I followed him upstairs, where he pushed me to the floor and told me to beg him to stop.  I did, which put me in a weird space.  At the same time as I was being sucked down into both despair and ecstasy, I didn't want him to stop, but I was begging him to, which just made him hold me down and fuck me more violently.   Soon he came, and left me in a bloody mess, on the floor, on top of my robe, so he could hop in the shower.

  I have discovered I can't write about emotions.  I'm afraid to let them out (see the first article above).  What will people think of me?  What if I let out the wrong emotion on paper and they see me as I am sometimes: weak/silly/conceited/vain/selfish/needy/hopelessly insecure?    

Emotions, what the hell?   I had been mopey, lonely, insecure and near despondent all morning, ever since pancakes, actually.  It made no sense, since I am far from neglected and I know it,  but since when are emotions related to making sense?   They aren't, and trying to talk myself out of them in a reasonable and rational way wasn't working.  

I folded laundry, but when that was done all I could do was sit in a heap on the floor until it was my turn to shower.   The hot water loosed the tears.  Master stood outside the shower and watched me cry.  When I stepped out he asked what was wrong, and I said I didn't know.   I asked things that I knew the answer to, hoping for reassurance- was he sure he wasn't tired of me?  Didn't he want someone else?  How could he not be tired of me?   Why am I so sad? (ok, that one I did not know the answer to).  He answered every one of my questions, even the last one, and he held me tight.

   I accepted his explanation of my emotions (see the second article).  I still have no idea what the actual reason was, it could have been falling blood sugar for all I know, but his explanation seemed as good as any.  I just wanted his love and attention, that's all.   And sex.  Lots of sex.   

Is there an ending to this blog? Not really.  Our guests came and went.  We worked on fixing the latch to the barn door, which is now all done! YAY!  
 I pitchforked hay and pigeon muck out of the top of the barn while he mowed the lawn.  Then we worked on weeding the garden.  At one point he pulled me into the barn and he fucked my mouth for a quick break.   Later on I finished the blowjob.  Then he spanked me with the paddle until I nearly cried, but this was the glowing red ass happy kind of near-cry. 

By the end of the day I was exhausted but happily content.