Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Bliss in 60...

It’s been nearly exactly six months since I posted.

Sorry.

Not gonna lie, I’ve still been struggling. I’ve withdrawn a lot on social media, both vanilla and kink, and only now am feeling like I’m ready to participate at my own speed. 2016 has been a challenge in more ways than one. There’s been my struggle with…well…life in general, our apartment was burned in a fire (no one was hurt, we had minimal losses…as far as disasters go, not the worst thing ever, though still utterly horrible), and Master and I just don’t get the time alone we desperately need. I think this is the worst. There’s an intrinsic need for both of us to have time together dripped with rope and chains; but we don’t have the structure to have it. We see the light at the end of the tunnel, really and true, we know that the structure is growing and changing and it will provide more time for Master to be Master and me to be creature without having to compartmentalize.

But recently, Master and I did have the opportunity to spend about 60 hours utterly alone together. We talked, we laughed, we went out to eat without small people running amok…and there was so much time devoted kink.

We were able to start Friday night – put some dinner in our bellies and talked about all the things we love that we never have the time to do. We piled up a slew of rope and chain downstairs and upstairs, though we wound up playing in the living room more than we did anywhere else. It was cooler, and there was more floor space for…many things. Master used my favorite rope tie on me to start, knocked me over and teased me for falling over, insisted I get up; just so he could knock me over again, I am sure. We had lots of sex. Master put me in the cage, and used the dowel rods to make it worse. He left me chained to a hitching ring he’d hidden in the closet. He kicked me, punched me, slapped me, electrocuted me, fucked me raw, denied me orgasms, overloaded me with the same, and generally treated me like a toy. Until we were both so raw and tired Sunday night, that we knew we had to sleep so that Monday wasn’t utterly miserable for Master at work. (We didn’t do very well, there; I think he was actually asleep about an hour late.)

There have been no marks that have shown, but I can feel the rawness of my flesh rubbing against socks and jeans and shoes and shirts and I’m…I’m impatient for the next round, which looks like will happen at Thunder.

Maybe we should bring Master’s cage and dowel rods along this time. Heheheh...