Anniversary and Ennui

Two separate topics for this title. Just felt the need to say that.

Dinner at home, and  a toast to us!

Last weekend, Sir and I went to celebrate our 5 year anniversary. We had a great time! Friday night I made us a nice dinner at home, and Saturday we went away. The hotel was... awful, admittedly, but we made the best of it. And the pool and hot tub were at least enjoyable. Just the condition of the rooms and severe lack of customer service.

En Garde in the Melting Pot, and a sweet surprise with dessert!

We had dinner on Saturday night at The Melting Pot, and it was fabulous! Honestly, the best dining experience I've ever had. Amazing service. They seated us in "Lover's Lane" which was a private booth. You could even turn the lights down low. We had a great time just being silly, chatting, and having a novel dinner out. When we came back we were honestly like two old sloths stuffed to the brim. We just snuggled and watched TV before bed. Sunday we went to explore a cave local to the hotel, and it was lovely.

We're in a cave!

I did end up getting Sir a gift, even though we had decided that instead of gifts, we would go away. The previous week at our local munch, one of the leaders were showing off her pitcher candles. Sir was particularly interested in one. I made arrangements to go pick up some of these candles without his knowledge. I had to lie to him to do it, but it was so I could surprise him. Meeting with her to pick them up was a week after he'd seen them. Well, for some reason when I got back, he brought her and the candles up, at random, and kept talking about them. I could feel my resolve breaking, and I eventually gave in and showed him what I got. It was hard, because I was so excited, and the timing of him bringing it up was just weird. He didn't know, though! I thought he did, somehow, and was toying with me a little. He liked that I didn't even make it a full 30 minutes of keeping the secret once I got back into the house. We didn't use them on our getaway, but Sir made great use once we got back. He lined them up on my back while lit for added anticipation. I tried my best to stay still, but eventually they came down, coating me with the wax. I think I was more fearful of the flame, to be honest. It didn't go out once knocked over!

It was wonderful, as has been the past 5 years.
I would do it all over again!

---

On an unrelated note, I've been fighting a bout of depression and apathy. Maybe it's the fact that winter is actually here. Maybe it's coming back from the excitement of last weekend. Maybe it's being a homebody lately.Maybe it's continued grief. Maybe it's being snowed in. Maybe it's a little bit of all of those things.

We got over 2 feet of snow this weekend and we're still snowed in here. No plow has gotten to our street, not once. Sir has missed class today. We're trying to figure out how to get him out of here, but I don't think the two of us can shovel the entire street. And that's IF the connecting streets are all plowed, and I know that at least one of them isn't. We're hoping a business we live near will plow their parking lot, and then we can maybe shovel a path from his car to there to get him out. We'll see.

Five Years

Five Years! Sir and I have been together for 5 years today. It seems unreal to be saying that. It doesn't feel like that long, at all.

We're going away for the weekend since this is a big deal and we should celebrate!

Five years ago, I don't think I could have dreamed our lives up. It's a struggle and it's hard, but it is ours and just for that, I love it. I love our little life together. I love being with Sir. I love working through life and getting through the hard times together. I didn't think I could be with anyone for 5 years; this is my longest relationship by far. And it feels like a blink.

Here is Sir, being a dork entirely of his own volition. 
One of the few goofy photos that he's permitted me to post online.

I love Sir for a myriad of reasons such that I can't possibly write them all, but here are some highlights. He is intelligent and a careful thinker. He doesn't rush into anything. He is kind, and helps others in need. His love for his sweet mother. His geeky nature. His willingness to always try new things, at least once. His desire to make me happy; he goes to great lengths to put a smile on my face. His loyalty. His dependability and supportive nature. I don't know how I would have gotten through this year without him. His dominance, while still being a caring partner. And I think, above all else, his silly goofball side that only I get to see. I think that makes it special. Sir is a huge dork, but I am the only person he is fully himself with. I've seen him open up a little bit to others, but not nearly on the level I get. He is a different person with me than the outside world I think, and that's a gift he's given me: the gift of his true self.

Happy five years together, Sir. I look forward to the next five years and all the good they will bring as we put our lives together and build our future!

The Nook and Coloring

Now that I've been home, I'm taking time to clean and organize our house. When we rearranged the office this summer, we inadvertently created a little square space in the corner bordered by bookshelves. I call it the nook... I guess the book nook? I've finally got it to a place where I can sit in it.

For Christmas, Sir got me some intricate coloring books, as well as a nice fancy set of coloring pencils and a big box of Crayola crayons. I was excited - it's a set of 70 pre-sharpened colored pencils, and the crayons are the 96 pack with the sharpener in the back. As a kid, I always wanted that big box. My dad got one for my brother and I once, as kids. I think in my head I thought they were super expensive, or hard to find. Maybe that was the case for us back then. My brother and I would play a game where we would pick a crayon from the box, show only its color, and the other one would have to guess what exact color it was. I guess it's true that kids can make a game out of anything. There definitely was no "I'm booooored" allowed when I was growing up.

Sir decided that we were going to break in the new coloring books. I got myself set up with pillows and blankets on the floor in the nook. He sat at his computer desk. We chose our pages. And we colored. It was nice! He put on some instrumental music, and we just chatted and colored. It was soothing, calming, and great stress relief.

Sir says the stress-relieving part is why he got the books for me. Right now I'm not so stressed, but once I am back at work he thinks this will be a good way for me to decompress in the evenings. I think I agree! I believe this definitely appeals to my little side as well. And I like being in the nook. I want to work on getting more pillows and blankets in there.

I look forward to many calm evenings coloring with Sir.

The Bitch Stick

I came into the office to grab my phone, and Sir tells me to come to him. I'd been wearing my leash attached to my chain all day, per his instructions. He grabs my leash tight and pulls me to him, kissing me hard without much warning. Pulling, keeping me in place. Kissing forcefully. His lips are like a seal around my small mouth, sucking. Sucking all my resistance and thoughts... away.

Apparently I just dropped that phone and gave in. How could I not, though? He keeps a tight hold on my chain, moving his lips to my shoulder, sucking, biting as I squirm. Pulling, the chain biting into my neck as he hikes my skirt up, his hand roughly grabbing between my legs. He steps up from his chair, pulling me upright, and close to him, removing my shirt and hiking the rest of that skirt up, manhandling me through my tights as much as he desires. I find humor in looking up at him; giggling, watching his nostrils flare in excitement. I briefly pull my legs away, wondering if he will pull me back, wanting to feel more of his control. He calls me on my move, not quite believing the reason (probably believing his because his hand is not letting up on me).

Of course he pulls me back, snapping my tights as he lets go and I revel in it. Thinking about it now, that is not a very submissive move. If he puts me somewhere, I should stay put.

"Fucking seriously, Bitch? If I pull you to me, you fucking stay. And I don't quite believe that that's the reason. It's got nothing to do with my hand all up on your fucking pussy right now? If I want to grab this pussy I will grab it, and you will like it!"

I giggle.

"Whats so fucking funny?" Sir rolls his eyes. "You're not still laughing about my nostrils again, are you, Bitch?"

I'm not. I'm laughing because of his language. Unlike me, Sir rarely curses. If he says 'fuck', it's out of extreme frustration; for emphasis. I guess he is one of the few people I know that uses curse words for their proper purpose. Hearing him swear and use the word pussy... it's just so out of character. And while I'm laughing, I like it; his language, his demeanor, his body language. It's screaming dominance, and I'm loving it.

"I can't say pussy, Bitch? Would cunt be better?"

I don't really have a response for him. He can say whatever he likes, do as he likes. I just can't help laughing.

He goes back to attacking my shoulder with his lips, keeping me clamped in place with one hand pulling on my leash, the other still firmly working between my legs. He grabs my hair tightly in his fist, still holding my leash, pulling my head back for kisses that make me forget everything else. I feel like I am pouring myself into him.

He pulls me into the bedroom, keeping a tight hold the entire time.

"Do you know what's going to happen now?"

I don't even have time to answer before he pushes me forcefully down on the bed, face down.

Earlier that night, we threw out a cat tent that our kitty ignores and took up way too much space in our bedroom. But before we did, we dismantled it and had several short sections of plastic pipe. We looked at each other over the garbage can (outside) and brought them back into the house.

He started beating my ass with what he now calls "The Bitch Stick". Over my tights at first. Then he pulled them, and my skirt from me, flipping me over briefly, and then back again face down.

He beats me some more. Scrapes my back with the edge of the stick, pulling my head back, fist in my hair. It makes a slight whistling noise as it cuts the air.

"I'm going to do one cheek horizontal and one cheek vertical." He makes good on it. One definitely hurts more than the other. He beats the other to match intensity of pain.

"Do you like this? You've got a pretty pink ass, you know."

"It hurts..." I say.

"That's not what I asked. Do you like this?"

"...A little, Sir." I'm always saying that. Of course I like it. I'm embarrassed and uncomfortable and he's making me do things, being forceful and making me admit things to him. Yes, I like it.

"Let's see." He shoves his fingers up my cunt. It's easy for him.

"You like it a little, huh? That's not what she seems to think."

He is rough with me. I squirm and try to get away, I guess. But he's got my leash and my hair, and I'm not going anywhere.

He holds me in place, fingering me roughly. It hurts, but it has a taste of that good kind of hurt with it. I wonder if he's making me get used to his hands in there, since I've said I hate it, and I've clamped my legs down or held his hands as best I could from getting in there in the past. He usually wins. Or gets me in my sleep.

"Someone is certainly wet and squishy..."

I find a small amount of embarrassment in him verbalizing that, and being all up in there. But part of me likes it too; the embarrassment, him forcing me to take it.

He removes his fingers. "Grab the rope on the nightstand and flip over."

He places the bitch stick under my right knee, using it to stabilize the rope so that I cannot unbend my leg.

"Now, get up and get the other sticks in the living room."

Just getting off the bed is a chore. I probably should have put more thought into how to get into the other room. I try using the bound leg, and I just go down, catching myself just in time. It's a weird angle to be bent at. I bend the unaffected leg to match, and take a few more steps, looking super glamorous, I am sure. I try hopping with one leg, but I am unstable and need to support myself with my arms. I make it back to the bed finally through hopping/hobbling, sticks in hand, both of us laughing.

He readjusts my bondage. I honestly don't remember if he actually used the other sticks that I had to fetch just then. I remember later, both him and me beating my breasts with them, watching them jiggle. I seemed able to handle more pain than normal. I didn't feel as exposed as I normally do when dealing with breast impact.

I remember him fucking me, good and hard, after I said I didn't think he'd get in there. I remember him taking my leash and pulling on it. I remember his fist in my hair. I remember thinking it'd be lovely to have both legs bound with the bitch sticks, face down, him pulling on the leash and chain as he takes me. I remember him coming. Now that I've started the pill and he won't be needing those condoms much longer, it figures that it's now that he seems to have finally been able to finish with them.

I remember him going to take a quick shower while I was still hazy. He lovingly unclasped the leash from my chain. "Don't want you to choke; you look like you're going to pass out."

He let me sleep until 11:30 am the next day.

I guess he wore me out.

Straight, No Chaser

Sir was battling a cold he caught from his sister when we were visiting for the holidays.

Before bringing him some NyQuil, I asked him if he wanted a drink for after to get that taste from his mouth.

"No, I'm good."

I guess he's being a man, or something. I bring him the medicine.

"An eighth of a cup?! That's a lot!"

"It's two tablespoons."

Sir takes his time with the medicine.

"Ugh!" He shakes his head, loosely moaning like a cartoon, sounding like an exhalating balloon.

"Use your tongue! Get every last drop out of there!" I tell him.

"I'm working on it, I'm working on it!"

"Should I have brought you a chaser?" I say, teasing him.

"I should make out with you right now, just for that!"

Touché, Sir.

Not My Place to Be Annoyed

When we were travelling for the holidays, Sir forgot to pack his pajama bottoms.

I got unduly annoyed by this. I'm not exactly sure why. It's Sir's body. If he wants to sleep in jeans, that's his prerogative. And because of our lucky circumstances (two nights in a hotel room, another night at his dad's in the guest room with the door closed), he only had to sleep in his jeans for one night (in my cousins' living room on the airbed).

So why does it annoy me so?

Maybe because I got the pants for him? Maybe because I don't like the thought of him being uncomfortable?

In writing this, I had a brand new thought, a revelation, perhaps.

Maybe it has something to do with preparedness and planning? Not packing them means not planning and being prepared. Lack of forethought has been a thorn in my side for some time...

I'm not exactly sure WHY I get annoyed about it, and that doesn't matter. I do know one thing.

It's not my place, and I need to get over myself. Instead of getting annoyed that he forgot to bring PJ pants when travelling (especially when he typically sleeps nude or in his underwear, so why would he think of that when packing), perhaps I can serve him better by trying to remember for him? Maybe I can try to think more of him and his comfort and being helpful when we're packing to travel.

And if both of us forget, definitely not huff, suck my teeth and sulk in annoyance.

More things to work on for the future!

Hair Bondage Silhouette

New Year's Day, Sir beautifully bound my hair.

Here is another shot he took of me standing at our front door. I like how the light is coming from the window through the curtains, almost silhouetting my hair. I enjoy the halo of our Christmas Wreath still on our door. I enjoy how fluffy my exposed hair is, highlighting the constraint.

And of course, I enjoyed Sir first brushing my hair, then so tightly binding it, trying out a gift I gave him for Christmas. I suppose it was a gift for me, too.

Sinful Sunday Monthly Prompt: 

Windows.

Click the lips to see who
else is posting this week!

Hair Bound for the New Year

New Year's Day. Sir and I had a bit of a lie-in since we got home from the party pretty late (well, late for us, haha).

Upon waking, Sir said that my hair looked like it could be brushed. Would I like him to brush my hair?

I wasn't fully awake and not making sense at first.

"Make your choice... this is a limited time offer," he said in a singsong voice.

Well, I certainly wasn't going to refuse such an offer; I love having my hair played with, touched, brushed,.. pretty much anything.

I jumped up out of bed to grab my hairbrush.

It was sitting on the windowsill in the bathroom. Upon handing it to Sir, he noticed that it was cold. He certainly used that to his advantage, pressing it to my sides, shocking me into being awake, then lulling me back into that dreamy haze by using those long strokes of the hairbrush, teeth scraping my back as my hair became untangled. I certainly enjoyed every stroke of that brush.

"Do you know what is going to happen now?"

I wasn't. Maybe make breakfast, clean something, start sucking?

"Whatever you tell me to do, Sir?"

"Well, that's a given. You're going to put your hair into a ponytail."

...I am? I am! My brain clicked into place and I finally realized what was probably going to happen. I darted back to the bathroom to grab a hair tie and put my hair up.

For Christmas, I had given Sir two 16-foot lengths of purple paracord as a stocking stuffer. It was sitting pretty at the craft store, and I figured I should get *something* kinky for him for Christmas, right?

I felt Sir take the paracord and start lacing it around my ponytail. This of course attracted the interest of our cat. How dare we use string and not invite his highness!

All string belongs to me, humans.

I did my best to keep my head straight while  keeping kitty away from the paracord. Several times Sir had to yank on my hair and remind me to stay still. 

I enjoyed the feeling of the paracord whipping against my back as Sir made loops around my hair. I enjoyed feeling the initial ponytail become tight against my head. I loved feeling the weight slowly being added. I wore it all day and right now it feels natural, as if it's part of me.

When Sir had completed his work, he had another task for me.

"Do you know what you are going to do now? You are going to suck my dick."

After Sir took a quick shower, I got to work, licking and sucking him. I was really into it this morning, despite me being silly (but what else is new).

"Bitch, if you're not already, get yourself wet."

Sir had me get on top and ride him. This morning I felt electrified as if I had goosebumps everywhere. Everything tingled.

"Come for me...You better come for me. If you don't, I am going to punish you, you hear me? Come for me."

Hearing that is almost like encouragement rather than a deterrent. Which I suppose it's meant to be. I think my brain treats it more like permission and gets more into it over worrying about what will happen if I don't finish. I suppose it removes my inhibitions about certain things, so I can enjoy it more.

I did come, and it was intense. Not sure if it was loud. We recently got new neighbors upstairs, but fuck it, we are who we are I guess. After I finished, I resumed riding Sir until he unceremoniously flipped me over, fucking me until he came. Wonderful. Sir has a hard time finishing while using a condom so I felt such joy that he was obviously enjoying himself as much as I was. I am also sporting an enormous hickey on my shoulder.

We'll soon be done with these stupid condoms. I finally got my birth control and will be starting on Sunday.

After letting me lay a bit since my legs felt like Jell-O, Sir had me rise to make breakfast. I got my apron on and whipped up some bacon and eggs. Sir spent time studying and I've been cleaning the house of all the holiday mess.

I adore my hair, thank you Sir!

What a lovely way to start 2016!

Happy New Year

2015 was a hard one. It definitely had its good moments, but it had one of the worst too.

This was the first entire year that Sir and I have lived together. This is definitely a good thing.

We made a lot of progress as a couple. Learning how to live together with each other. Learning how to made our D/s work. Reaching goals. Active domestic service every day. Wearing dresses/skirts every day (I actually wonder if I have worn pants -other than my required work uniform- at all this year). We got our D/s to a good place. It was working for us, and we really enjoyed it.

I got through a really tough working situation and finally found the job I've been waiting for, for nearly 4 years. Using my education, background, and in the field I've been hoping for. With a nice salary too!

We lost my dad this year. This has been the hardest thing to deal with, not only this year, but probably my entire life. Sir has been my absolute rock. Keeping me together, being supportive, literally holding me up when I couldn't do it myself. My brother even pulled him aside to tell him how much he appreciates him and what a great man he is.

I'm definitely not over it; I don't think that's something you get over. But I do feel that we're moving forward. I will always miss my father. I didn't write about him often here, but  we were extremely close. He was one of my best friends, and there's nothing that can fill that hole in my heart. But hopefully with time, the hole will get smaller.

I definitely think that we are in a better place - that I am in a better place than I was almost 5 months ago. Heck, even 2 months ago. And if I can see the progress there, I know I'll make more progress in the next 2 and a half months before I re-start work.

---

Tonight, Sir and I went to a New Year's Party through a geek meetup group I'm part of. It was nice, low key, and something we did here in our area. No crazy travelling. We had a good time playing games, meeting new people, socializing. I baked some peppermint brownies, and though they were ugly, they tasted good. I feel like it's the first time we have tried to really integrate into life out here. We've been so insular, but we live here, and being part of the community, even if we end up moving is good for us I think.

Happy New Year from Me and Sir. I hope 2016 brings you enough. Enough food on your table, enough heat in your home. Enough time to spend with the ones you love. Enough laughter from joy in your life. Enough health to enjoy the beautiful days. Enough fortitude to make each day better than the last. Here's to 2016.