Friday, April 20, 2012

Clash of the Titantically Stressed...

So yes, as we have stated a whole lot recently, it seems our lives are drowning in a sea of stress. A brief synopsis of our situation: an insomniac 4 year old, conflicting schedules (she with the early morning and I with the late nights), work stress, end of the school year and impending graduation, 1.5 months to the big move and still have yet to pin down a place to move to, changing careers and praying it holds, no real chances to play, and the ever present finances. Crazy, I know.

The worst thing we could do would be to turn on each other, and yet it seems inevitable that when people get super stressed they do just that. The girl got herself in some hot water the other day, mouthing off at the most opportune of times: right when I have to go out the door to my accursed job. Needless to say, regardless of the specifics of her tirade, I was in a cranky zone. Which was cemented in place by my very presence at work. For hours I mulled it over in my mind, dissecting every word of what she had said. Like trying to remove a catalyst from a solution during an explosive reaction, I tried and tried to separate the volatile emotions from the underlying cause of her rant. Why would she feel this way, what was making her say all of this? How could she be condemning me over things she had just paid me great compliment on the week before?

When I returned home, I was still livid with her but had a better grasp over the causes and the first rays of understanding started poking through the tempest of my displeasure. The girl apologized profusely and asked if I were willing to discuss the whole affair with her. I refused, knowing that I was still too angry for it to become anything other than a shouting match. I was tempted to chain her to the foot of the bed for the whole night with not but a foot of chain ensuring an uncomfortable and sleepless night, but then she had school the next morning and once again those obligations seemed to supersede my own desires. So I swiftly sent her to bed, tucked her in in my usual fashion albeit a bit cooler in temperament, and left her to cry herself to sleep.

The next morning however, my temper had eased and I felt better equipped to talk it over. When the girl came home from school, she fell to her place at my feet and, as the kiddo was still asleep, she asked if I wished her to give me a blow job or if I wanted to use her. I sent her upstairs to strip and place herself on the bed in the "dog" position. When I had finished what I was working on, I went upstairs to find her ass up, face down on the bed eagerly awaiting whatever I had in store for her. First, I settled the account of her imprudent words with a barrage of swats to her ass. I always enjoy the appearance of that crimson spreading over her ass, but even more so when the punishment was so richly deserved. The girl squirmed and squealed, tears jumping to her eyes even as she thanked me for the punishment. 

I took up position behind her, taking her in one smooth thrust. The feel of her warmed buttocks pressing against me was delightful. Then an idea came to me, the words "see how your mouth gets your ass in trouble" played in my head. I moistened my thumb and stuck it into her ass. Her groan was lost in the subsequent moans as I fucked her. Finally, I allowed her to orgasm and when she had finished, I retrieved the butt plug, lube, and even grabbed the Bandito (a toy we haven't had much use for besides intimidation previously). I lubed up the plug and slipped it in with ease and the girl took it very well, none of her usual groans or whimpers as it slides in. I continued to pound her, alternating between long strokes gliding passed the bulge of the plug and hard short thrusts jamming both my cock and the plug home. Oh, the noises she made. When she was ready to beg, I made her add the line to her usual request "with this plug in my ass." Again and again she begged and again and again I let her shudder on the end of my cock. Then, I withdrew the rather slender plug and readied the Bandito for insertion. I told the girl to take a deep breath and began working the new, and impressively sized toy into her ass. 

We have made great headway with the girl's anal training, however because of our lack of consistent opportunities we haven't been able to get her to take bigger items. Yet, as I pushed the Bandito into her hole, despite the whimpers and attempts to crawl on her belly over the edge of the bed to escape the stretch, she managed to take the first bulge of the toy nearly all the way in. The last little line of resistance is the innermost sphincter muscle. And yet, we are nearly passed even that. 

So I put the Bandito aside, pleased with the girl's progress, and replaced the plug in her ass while I fucked my way to a delightful climax. The girl collapsed on the bed gasping and happy. I reminded her of her place and of how her mouth most definitely gets her ass in trouble. At this point we needed a shower, and it was in the shower that the much needed talk about her behavior, and more importantly the motivations for what she had said, occurred. It was a good talk, it did not turn into a fight or a screaming match and we both emerged from the shower once more mostly on the same page. 

It is sad for me to think that these rather titanic clashes are like the last, heaving spasms of a drowning man. That our need for each other goes so long unfulfilled that we have to resort to these emergent measures to ensure that we get even the most minimal of time together. Even as we have ventured back into the public scene, our opportunities over the passed two months have been denied for one reason or another. It is my fervent hope that this change in location will bring with it a beneficial change to our lifestyle. Maybe even allow our chosen lifestyle to reemerge stronger than before. Here's to hoping, huh?...

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