Bits and boobs

The day ended with sex. The kind of sex that you know is going to hurt in the morning even more than it hurt at the time. Oh is started innocently enough... a little too much dinner and an offer of a little mutual masturbation. So like a lamb one trotted off after Him, skipping along, unaware of the turn things would take. In hindsight though there were warnings that things would not go according to plans...

It was a day that started with a migraine and was padded in the middle by a snooze to sleep off the effects of the medication for the damn thing. After that we went and saw Spider Man in 3D. And what a feat of endurance that was. Three hours of sitting through something that was not shot completely in 3D so you were stuck in those uncomfortable glasses more than necessary. It was also a movie that left you with the distinct impression that it was made mainly because someone had some spiffy merchandising that they needed to unload. Let's be honest with its bright primary colours S M does appeal to the child in us all... if not our wallets.

We staggered out unsure of why they had made it once again, but convinced it is like compressing a music file. Every time a file is compressed some nuance is lost... in this case the lines that are quintessentially Spider Man. Not to mention that the spiders are no longer radioactive. Yes one gets that genetically altered is more plausible, but it's a super hero movie. How plausible are any of them... just think about Wonder Woman's invisible plane for a minute before answering that J

So feeling disgruntled and both of us with sore arses for a change, we picked up some takeaways and continued back home. Which is where all this started... in bed having sex that began innocently enough...

Lying there masturbating as He was applying a delightful pressure to the nipples... it was fabulous and one was spinning around, spiralling towards a wonderful orgasm that was just ahead of the pain... when His voice whispered in one's ear, ask me to hurt you.

Say what? Where did that come from and why was it even there?

He repeated the phrase and being as one was floating on the edge one complied. That was where it started to go wrong... because He did. The sensation floated along the breast in a searing shot of pain that took the breath away. And just as the orgasm was about to overcome it the voice was back.

Ask for more He crooned

You know that old adage be careful what you ask for? Well it was for these sorts of times...

And then as one was screaming in pain and orgasm, He started to force his way into a tight vagina that is rarely used. It was like being ripped apart from the inside as He pushed and pushed, going deeper and deeper until he came

Laying there panting in the aftermath all one could feel was three points of pain that formed an inverted triangle... fuck that is going to hurt.

Move along...

Today was an auspicious day. It was a day full of portents and signs... all of them bad. What has brought about this doom and gloom you may be wondering? Ah well it was a Monday and one small slave was working. See as a rule one doesn't work on Mondays... unless begged in an appropriate manner by a desperate manager.

Over the years people have asked about this reluctance to work Mondays and one has always made vague noises about how, having worked restaurants most of the younger years, the body clock has very firm ideas about what day is the end of the working week... or the beginning for that matter. The truth though? Ah that is a far more prosaic thing...

Mondays are the days that things come home to roost...

The customer that has changed their mind

The day that gifts get returned

And we don't do refunds. This means that one small slave gets stuck with disgruntled people who haven't got their own way and now have to choose something else... It does not make for a good day. Even upselling them into something slightly more expensive does little to balance the scales of being stuck with them in the first place... though the challenge does keep one amused.

So dear read move along... there is nothing to see here J

Bear hugs

It was the end of a long day which culminated with our Tuesday night vanillas. For the next few weeks they are a two income family and it was quite funny listening to his list of must have things... though the Nerf Guns were essential. It's only a temporary thing, but for the next few weeks we will meet on a Sunday, which is damn hard on Him as there is only time for a nap in the afternoon after night shift the night before. Fortunately His body has no real concept of a body clock any more... it's been burnt out by years of erratic sleep patterns L

So there we are in bed, one of us sound asleep and one of us still flitting around, when He says come here. Moving over to His side of the bed one snuggled up. More skin He demanded, pushing one small slave off his beloved doona to lift up an end so one could get under. Other way He said. So one rolled over and snuggled up... which put the arse in a very precarious position. Wrapping His arms around one, he squeezed the breast in a vice like grip, declaring mine!

Laying very still one realised that not only was He going back into a deep sleep, but that he wasn't letting go. Of course the TV was still on and the bedside light was still blazing...

Trying a few experimental wriggles only resulted in the arm tightening more and increasing interest from other parts

Umm... you're going to have to let go

Nope!

The lights on... please may one turn it off?

The arm lifts fractionally and slams down the minute one makes a move

The lights still on...

The arm lifts again and one flees towards the remotes... to be grabbed by the arse instead.

You're always trying to escape He grumbled.

Just turning off the light. Which one did before escaping back under one's own doona

His hand followed under and one was groped and molested as He went back into a deep sleep.

Sighing one rolled over secure in the knowledge that He would probably not remember any of this in the morning. Mind you it was still better than when He used to wake one up to cuddle under his doona, then roll over taking the damn thing with him leaving one naked, awake and shivering. Those were always special hugs L

Rock-a-bye baby

I can't sleep He said, stumbling out of the bedroom for the second time.

Uh huh one replied over a mouthful of spaghetti carbonara. Well it's very hard to empathise over a creamy, cheesy sauce... really it is.

If I put on some crap TV will you come and watch it with me He asked

Um... looking longingly at the last mouthfuls of sauce and ignoring the folding and dishes sitting there waiting... OK. Just put something bad (read a show not followed by one small slave) on and one will grab a quick shower. So off one trotted in the pursuit of cleanliness...

Later curled up on the bed, slightly stupefied in a saturated fat and carbohydrate glow, as the show finished one heard Him say make me cum. Looking at Him one didn't comply with the request immediately. In fact as one pointed out it was a little hard to tell if it was a request or a command.

That's because you are a bad slave He replied

Ignoring the insult one started to turn off the screen and the router and the amplifier... it's never a simple matter of a remote around here. It was as one was reaching to put the last controller in the box... it's the only way to keep the little critters corralled together... that He attacked one with that paddle.

Don't you be nasty, otherwise one will write mean things about you in the blog.

OK for the record threatening Him might not have been the best move in hindsight. Threatening Him while he was armed might have been mildly suicidal...

Let's just say for the record He got to cum and one small slave got to do the dishes

He is a mean man L

Power and privilege

MT started an interesting thread in the group and it made the mind spin around thinking about everything around the actual questions. For starters one isn't sure you can separate class from privilege. They may not be the same thing, but they certainly stem from each other. We are middle class and we have both been afforded all the privileges that extend from that. But that is a debate for another time... back to this...

In spite of growing up in similar backgrounds they were not the same. His family are working class, with a comfortable amount of money, and He became first generation snob by attending university. Meanwhile one small slave's parental units were first generation snobs and auntie and uncle were all the more odd in that, although they were working class, they owned land... something that probably wouldn't have happened in their native England. See the colonies do have a tendency to level some... though not all... class structures. We just like to pretend they don't exist J

His family were big on parental responsibilities while the parental units at this end were... surprisingly neglectful of things like... oh let's see... curfews, wanting to know where you had been all day, what you did over the weekend, if you had actually gone to school, why you slept all afternoon... you know stuff that would have landed His parents on his back in a heartbeat. The ironic thing is that He would have thrived in a household that believed there was no wasted education (his parents believe that you get an education to get a job) and that age appropriate reading meant you could read it with minimal assistance from a dictionary... and no parental input whatsoever.

Who knows He might have got to the Marques De Sade before Nietzsche... his life could have been very different a lot sooner J

Personally one has always thought that the beach holidays He was made to suffer through year after year sounded pretty awesome. And regular meals... actually meals in general... and His mother's legendary biscuit tins sound, well are, pretty awesome too. Oh one would still have rebelled; it's what children do, but one suspects that the rebellion would have been so much more... middle class and a lot less unseemly that the route one actually took. It would have probably culminated in marriage to an inappropriate husband or two, judging by how His sister has turned out.

The bottom line is though that in spite of the differences there are enough cross over privileges that we rub along together very well. We both attended the same university and were indoctrinated by them, we both never really wanted for things, we both had people that loved us enough that we could go on to form a loving attachment to someone else and we both grew up with a roof over our heads. We have similar values... we both loath working.

We are Mother Nature's grasshoppers who were raised by ants... bless them. Well His at any rate... his still have full biscuit tins J

A negotiated surrender

Right time to go to bed and fuck me to sleep He said in that tone.

Peering at him from the coffee table one was perched on one calculated the odds of getting to finish the coffee first. They were not good. Well we could or we could try that anal sex thing one offered.

Right to bed He said

Umm... no. The shower might be a better choice in this case. Mainly because head down starts up the coughing that delights Him so while leaving one exhausted and sore... in this case at both ends. But you are going to need to be gentle... it's been a while.

He sat there with a contemplative look on his whiskers

What are you thinking?

Well I was wondering He said in a reflective tone, which would be more gentle... slamming in hard a few times or lots of little thrusts spread over time

Looking at Him with exasperation and a measure of terror one pointed out that neither really constituted as gentle

So off we trotted to the shower... one rather closer than necessary for the comfort of the other...

And He started of very gently... applying lube... the real stuff not the more convenient soap... in a very diligent manner. In fact one started to relax thinking oh this might not be too bad...

Sighs yeah one should know better...

For the record His penis is much bigger than a few fingers and His experimentation with a few little thrusts followed by slamming in hard a few times before slipping back to gentle thrusts...

Yeah, as far as the arse is concerned? Neither is gentler than the other. They hurt equally, but in different ways. 

Cheap and cheerful

Today was one of those days... too many things to do and not enough time to do them in. In spite of that one did manage to squeeze in cooking breakfast and garlic prawns for lunch, a couple of loads of laundry, cooked two casseroles to freeze, discussed the idea of starting up a home business with His mother, reluctantly turned down her offer to accompany her to the professional quilters to look at designs for a quilt she has just finished, went to the hairdressers and had these follow one home...

The thought was that they would look rather spiffy with a little black dress. 

Sighs it isn't easy coming home empty handed when you have to walk past your local dealer, on the way back from getting your hair done. Well that's the excuse one is sticking to at any rate J

And frankly one is unsure why this was called a day off... it was nonstop 

Why???

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Paying the piper

Today was the day when we went to do responsible citizen type things... car registration, giving Medicare our bank details and doing taxes. The first one on that list is virtually unavoidable, the second one closes a sweet deal whereby you got reimbursed in cash. Well from their point of view they were losing money in those transactions and not carrying huge cash floats is probably going to reduce their insurance by a hefty margin. Not to mention that big brother now has an extra layer of knowledge about us.

The last item on that list... ah well that is another thing altogether. See in this country you pay tax all year long and then at the end of the financial year you try and claw as much of it back as possible from the tax man. Now a lot of people do their own taxes... personally we are not those people. We trot off to the accountants, bearing reams of paper and receipts, to entertain them with our answers. Do you have any dependants? Well they wouldn't let us claim the cat last year. Has that changed... she's a very difficult cat. Sighs the answer is still no by the way.

We trotted out a short time later, richer on paper than when we went in. Not that the state will last. The credit cards need to be payed off. You know one can't help but wonder where that life of no responsibility is... it's looking better by the minute L

Sunday morning

His mother has just popped in bearing a batch of light, fluffy scones. She's developing a rather deft hand since His grandma abdicated due to failing health... not that she is likely to die or anything anytime soon... she's the sort that will linger, being a bother, for years. Anyway back to the scones...

Piping hot, gentle curls of steam when you split them open...

And one small slave is sitting here with morning mouse and scones slathered in butter and jam

Don't hate J

BDSM myth #36

People become slaves to escape the responsibilities and decisions of real life.

You know it's not that easy...

Just the other evening one had to come home and decide between rosehip and green tea. Then one had to decide what to make for dinner... for one as He was asleep. Then... you get the idea. In fact there is the odd time when one thinks that not having to make choices all the time would be nice...

Decision making is a skill... one that gets increasingly harder as we get older. It is one of the reasons why you may notice that many older people sometimes dither around when making choices and opt for putting it off altogether if they can. His mother does that... it drives one utterly insane. In fact one often refuses to help purely because it is good for her to make decisions... keeps the little grey cells ticking along. OK that and the fact that it drives one nuts when she goes and does the complete opposite thing of sensible.

Anyway back to the myth of not making decisions...

Personally one makes countless decisions. Even standing in front of the wardrobe wondering what to wear; there might not be anything in there that He hasn't approved of, but one still has to put it together and accessorise it...

As an aside, owners limiting choices seems to be a bit of an issue in certain quarters, but in many ways the idea of choices is something of a myth. Yes He limits one's choices, but then all choices are limited by something be it finances, availability or physical aptitude.

And it goes on... how long has that egg been in there, is it time to put on the toast? Process after process... choice after choice...

Actually that myth is looking more attractive by the minute... where does one sign up?

Consent matters

There is the usual hubbub on Fet at the moment as the NCSF once again ponders how best to deal with issues of consent and more importantly the statistical outriders known as the CNC crowd. One of the biggest issues they have with us... apart from the complete lack of understanding of what makes us tick... is our reluctance to heel to their ministrations. Apparently it still upsets them that we aren't suitably grateful for their attempts to assert their mantra of consent... particularly the bit where we can withdraw it.

Umm... hello?

A cursory glance at most of the CNC crowd around on Fet would reveal the most articulate, mouthy bitches around. We wouldn't hesitate to safeword, withdraw consent or retaliate against a decision we didn't like. There was a reason our owners took away those weapons from us in the first place. And yet we still manage to muddle along in long term relationships that often border on the edge of normal.

One of the reasons this blog was started... other than to amuse Him and pay homage to German engineering... was to show what one of these relationships looked like. And let's be honest it is dead dull most of the time. Mind you there probably isn't a reader out there who hasn't thought that taking away those weapons was a sensible decision on His part... life preserving in fact J

The trouble with the NCSF, who do a lot of good, is that they don't realise that we don't look at their member's lives of scening, protocols, traditions, fake hierarchies and public personas and think they are our people. There is not universe in which we are ever going to say thank you for giving us unsolicited advice on our relationships...

For one simple reason...

We do not acknowledge their authority.

Well that and the fact that no one likes the safety police J

G is for

Curled up on the couch we faced each other over breakfast... Him with some horrible concoction involving rare roast beef, tomato sauce, mayo and grilled cheese that he insists is culinary genius on his part and one small slave with scrambled eggs. You know one said conversationally, this is the first morning one actually feels almost human. Pity it's going to be wasted with going to work.

Stay at home He said with a gleam in his eye.

Umm... no, one of us needs to be responsible. Besides it's going to take days to get the arse back into working order after all those bloody antibiotics. It's going to need to be stretched back very gently...

Oh stay He cajoled, we can loaf around together...

And you know He almost had one until this bit...

We can shove the 2.0 in and help warm you up for the main event.

It was there that the little pantomime involving both hands being expanded internally began...

Gentle... there's another word that doesn't mean what He thinks it means L

Having taken His advice...

And spent more time on Fet one can say that the appreciation levels have reached a new high.  Let's have a look at the week in review shall we? One radical Fem dyke that wanted to know who else owned their daddy, one creepy dude who wanted to start a breeding ranch in Texas... err we're not talking cattle here in case you were wondering... and wanted to know who else was into O/p and one guy who seems to think we have the dating manual for O/p relationships.

Master you have never looked as sexy or as intelligent as you do right at this moment... and you are asleep in the other room as one types this.

And now if you will excuse one small slave Bab 5 and the couch awaits... 

Recovery

It was time to try that sex stuff again... though the body only seemed to have a hazy idea of what it was. It's very hard to feel sexual when the body starts coughing the minute it feels threatened... which it does with alarming frequency around Him. And that cough response is all His fault. After that silly little experiment that He did, the cough response is laid in there just waiting to get out. Oddly enough it doesn't even need a good bout of illness to trigger it... the body just needs to feel threatened.

He of course is never one to waste an opportunity to try out a new sensation... or take advantage of a girl. He thought it would be fun to have one sit astride him coughing... a bit like having your dick massaged while being fucked

He is a sick and perverted...

Bastard

Appreciation

All couples have little rituals. They might be physical acts or silly conversations. We are no different. Ours always go something along the lines of Him saying I love you. To which one often replies so you say. There are variations of the ritual depending on the circumstances...

I love you He said

Hmmm you know that word doesn't mean what you think it means right? See at the time He was groping some body part in an inappropriate manner.

Its close enough He replied.

See it is one of those silly formulaic things that couples do...

Of course round here there is sometimes a rather unusual end....

I love you He said.

Buried in the cupboard trying to find something to nibble on one gave a noncommittal grunt of disbelief...

You know I don't think you have been spending enough time on Fet He replied. You aren't as appreciative as you could be.

Marathon (wo)man

They had a guide on to how to get fit enough to run the Bridge to Bridge (a huge run that people do for charity and fun) in the paper He announced, as though it was the most normal topic of conversation in the world. Peering at Him over the lung one was trying to cough up at the time one tried not to laugh. Yes He said conversationally, it was broken down into weekly tasks that start this week. Not that we actually want to run the Bridge to Bridge or anything He hastened to add.

What outer ring of hell is this you may be wondering? Well ages ago... before all of this stuff with the health went sort of wrong... one did mention that one would like to run again. Oh not huge distances or anything, but enough to do the block without dying... or needing to be picked up by trained professionals bearing oxygen. Anyway that was the dream. Then the health sort of did a swan dive just in time for the cooler weather that was needed to make the dream come true... Actually one is still a little suspicious that this was the body's way of protecting itself from this new folly but...

So here He is in the middle of the floor announcing a simple plan to make the dream come true. And He is planning on doing it as well. This is where this gets interesting. See... there is no nice way to say this... there probably isn't anyone less inclined towards exercise on the face of the planet than Him. Most people exercise because somewhere along the line their bodies reward them... usually in the form of a little exercise high. He doesn't seem to have any endorphins to do this. No, seriously. We have been together for nearly 15 years and there is no evidence of their existence.

And He doesn't like pain... in any shape or form. There was a reason why one small slave got the short straw in this relationship... and it wasn't just lack of body mass.

Looking at Him... the way you do when you partner of many years suddenly goes insane before your eyes... one checked for a maniacal glint of fever in the eyes and finding none one proceeded to ask why? Why would you want to do this? You don't like pain... or exercise... or getting up in the morning. OK that last one might have been projection... He is far more likely to be up while one small slave lays buried beneath the covers but...

It seems He has decided to do something about his failing health and in true Scorpio form has selected the thing most likely to have the best possible trade off... providing it doesn't kill him first. All that He asks is that one looks over the shoulder to make sure He is still following... not laying on the pavement gasping for medical assistance. Though at this stage one has to say that there will be a 50-50 chance that He may not be alone in that state.

Dear gods we must be insane...

Maybe that is why we have stayed together so long... shared insanity. The difference is that one of us used to be a very good long distance runner... and you know after all these years one can still remember the pain of the first week of that. And one was young and fit to begin with...

Help! He's finally snapped and is trying to kill one small slave...

Redflag redflag redflag redflag redflag redflag redflag redflag redflag

The progress

Well today one tottered back to work. Walking to the bus stop the thought did cross the mind that the whole idea might have been somewhat ambitious. And to be honest nothing about the rest of the day convinced one otherwise. In fact due to quietness and a full staff one slid off an hour early. To arrive home to find the door locked...

His mother was somewhat horrified to find one on the door step dressed in the work uniform. In fact one was lectured about the folly of getting off the sickbed and grilled about why she wasn't at least asked to drive one to work and save an hour of bus ride...

Umm... you know one small slave hasn't been growled at by a parental unit in 32 years. When did they become so logical or was it just that we didn't notice that fact when we were teenagers?

Status update

Today one woke up and stayed that way for the whole day. Hey you take your victories where you can. It was also the first day of cooking food... which might one add took far more energy than was returned... not to mention it tasted strange. Oh and there was enough energy to hang up a couple of t-shirts. The rest of the day was spent on couch wondering how one is going to get through work tomorrow. Well that and chasing doctor's receptionists for lab results... a fruitless past time.

So yes... think we can say on the road to recovery.

There are a couple of things that need to be addressed...

The matter of a couple of nominations for "One Lovely Blog", which in all of this had completely passed one by. May one just take a moment to say thank you. It was appreciated and will be returned as soon as one gets back into the spirit of things.

And to all those who have sent well wishes both here and on Fet a huge thank you

Thank you

Bio diversity

When we started up the group it was meant to be a safe haven for those of us who didn't quite march along to the beat of everyone else's drums. It was a place for us to keep in touch with old friends and make a few new ones. We are such a tiny subset of the BDSM community it was often a case of safety in numbers. Of course as time went on we grew... often at quite alarming rates.

People find what we do interesting... far more interesting that we ourselves actually do one suspects. Generally we find ourselves to be normal to the point of banal. Where other people are out prancing around in leathers and latex we are far more likely to be found at home planning meals and wondering how to shuffle the bills around in the most effective and creative ways.

In spite of this more people drift in, often trying to manoeuvre around in our definitions enough to include their own idiosyncratic lives. Once in a blue moon they drop a random topic in... usually an announcement for some event unlikely to be attended by the O/p crowd, that is a violation of our rules. Then out of the blue they put up a topic that has everything to do with their own obscure worlds and very little to do with that we chat about day after day. Do they bother to include some introductory steps so that others may follow their topics? Oh like hell they do... that would be sensible.

Instead they are surprised when things don't go so well...

Do they realise their mistake and take steps to amend the confusion? Yeah right. They bag the lucky mod that happened to get them on their watch all over Fet... based not on their ruling, which is open to discussion, but on their gender. They cast aspersions on their life in an unrelenting barrage, firmly believing that the best way to get change is to be abusive. Do they think that stop to think for a minute that treating the mod that way is probably not the best way to instigate change? Err... no!

Do they accept the ruling? Oh no... They want a second opinion and then club together to flood anyone who might be sympathetic to their plight crying how they have been wronged and how the subtleties of the question have been overlooked. Yes that's right, they petition the group owner and probably any mod they may know... you have to admire the chutzpah if not the forward planning on that one.

It never seems to occur to them that if they actually acted like the lady, that lofty title they have been self anointed with, and shown some class we might have looked at them more kindly...

Instead we got to view them as the spechul snowflakes that they are...

Bless the inarticulate with chips on their shoulders, for they know not how exhausting they are.

Well, alive at any rate

Ambulatory enough to get to the doctors and sit in their waiting room for 40 odd minutes past the appointed time. Honestly that place is worthy of a rant in its own right... but one doesn't have the energy. Their best guess to date is that the pneumonia is living in small pockets in the lungs and coming out for sniper attacks. Not bad enough to flag their attention... until this time. This time was bad enough. It was the two days spent sleeping 22/24 hours a day with a raging temperature wasn't it?

Actually that was a creepy sensation. One minute you were laying there thinking probably should eat something and the next the eyes fluttered open again... an hour and a half later. Throughout this He has been a faithful companion...

Growing up we used to have Dachshunds. They are bright, intelligent dogs who were originally bred to hunt rabbits, hence all that loose skin. They are an ideal working dog because carved into their DNA is will work for food. Not that ours ever did anything as menial as work of course. They were pets in every pampered meaning of the word.

Whenever one was sick as a child they were sick too. Now, one would like to say it was because they were fiercely loyal, which they were, but one is still somewhat inclined to believe it might have been linked to the fact that meals were delivered to the bed on trays at very regular intervals... far more food that one small sick child could eat alone. Never the less they were there on the bed until called away for their three meals a day plus a hot drink last thing at night. Oh yes they were pampered dogs... the British are literally a little barking mad about their pets. They are a family member and accorded full rights as such J

He is somewhat like those hounds... there. Whenever one woke in a fit of coughing His hand was there reaching out to pat one gently. Every time the eyelids fluttered open for longer than a few minutes He tried to poke some food down. Admittedly He does seem to have a hazy idea of what suitable convalesce food should look like... Chinese chilli noodles are probably a stretch, as is a nice cold cuts sandwich or mint slices... shudders... but he did manage to follow instructions to the letter and produce some scrambled eggs.

And His mummy made freshly squeezed orange juice from tree in the back yard...

Who could ask for more? J

A Temptation resisted...

... is a true sign of character. - Louis Dega in the film Papillion. 

Her illness continues but it provides such beautiful targets.

 Have passed on your well wishes and I am sure she will reply to all when she is once again ambulatory.

Catching something in Fishnets

As she is out for the count due to illness, I thought I would post on her behalf.

Here she is getting ready to head out to the markets the other day before she caught the dreaded lurgy.

Balaclavas for breakfast

We got up late and tottered down to the Sunday markets for a little breakfast.

Commenting to Him that although the place was rife with small dogs... why do people insist on bringing small animals into a crowded area... the place was mercifully free of seagulls. And that was when we spotted this lone sentinel.

That and picking up some towels was about all we did... because the virus came back with a vengeance, so one is going to leave you with these shots and totter back to bed.

For ancilla_ksst

While out He grabbed the 3DS version of Skylanders... even though he is waiting for the 3DS XL version to be released. You can almost imagine His joy upon finding that the smaller portal is compatible with the computer... no pesky entering of codes to play online.
So just for you...

Dark Spyro (only available with the 3DS version) on His portable portal

Another day at the beach

The day dawned overcast, grey and bitterly cold thanks to the gusting winds. It was in short a perfect day for the roofing crew to turn up en masse to rip off the old fibro roof and replace it with something less hazardous to health. Like many of the older houses around here the roof was made of asbestos. Being by the beach people wanted things that were impervious to the weather and time and, as it turned out, modern medicine.

Needless to say it was something of a relief to flee the house just as they were assembling on the front lawn... even if it was to go to work. He was not so lucky; his arrival coincided with them actually knuckling down to it. His day was filled with the sound of men tramping around overhead and the continual roar of a generator. It was a very sleep deprived man who picked one up at work several hours later.

We sped off home... one of us had the night off and the other one of us has tomorrow off... beams happily... to an early dinner and an even earlier night. There was a perfunctory offer of sex in there... which was turned down in favour of the sleep that was reaching up to claim one's body and managed to keep it for a solid 10 hours. He was not so lucky. His body expected to be a work and was a little unsure of what it was doing in bed at that hour. No doubt He was awake dreaming up mean shit to do to one small slave tomorrow L

Parallel universe

Sitting in the lunchroom at work, one was thumbing listlessly through a woman's magazine. Did you know that there was a time when those magazines were a fascinating read? If ever you come across one from the 40's or so you should take a look. You'd be surprised at how far they have deteriorated. Anyway back to this...

What one ended up perusing was a rare interview with Tanya Herman, who killed her boyfriend's wife allegedly at his behest. She was convicted of the crime while he committed suicide before coming to trial. Now the reason for the interview seems to have been because she didn't like her portrayal in the TV drama "Wicked Love", but that is not what this is about. What caught one's attentions was the quote "He was my world. He told me what to wear, what to eat, what to think- he even dictated who my friends were and who I spoke to" Jackson, Rochelle. 'Partners in Crime' Australian Women's Weekly March 2012: pg 54-58

Reading the whole article one thought, well if ever He starts laying out suggestive clothing... err... suggestive of a cat burglar that is... after commenting that His mother needs to die... Actually we've had that conversation a few times over the years. Mind you she probably has had similar thoughts about one small slave... hmm... better keep an eye out for balaclavas in her wardrobe too...

So here we are, two women with similar relationships and it could be argued similar conversations...

What makes one of us more inclined to scamper out and do their bidding? Did her partner sound more serious? Was she more inclined to be obedient? Perhaps she had more motivation in that he promised to marry her if his wife was out of the way.

There are no real answers to these questions... sorry... life just isn't that cut and dried. It does make one profoundly grateful that He isn't serious about killing his mother though...

Tantalising tales

Well one could write about being fucked in the arse again, but let us just say that at this time of the year the tiles are spectacularly cold when it is 5 (41F) degrees outside... and not much warmer inside. In case you are wondering why one is whining about the weather so much it is probably pertinent to point out that our houses are not heated. In fact they are built to be cool; off the ground with wooden floors or as in our case built solidly on the ground with double cavity brick walls that are probably close on to 25cm (10") thick. This has been a cold winter and it isn't even August yet... brrrrr. But as always one digresses... where were we? Oh yes, anal sex...

Post shower...

Ah yes the image one wanted to convey...

Him all tucked into bed, pristine from the shower he had eased one out of...

Surrounded by His boxes of collectible figurines toys...

Portal perched within easy reach...

One small slave scampering out of the room, thinking this will end the need to get out of bed naked every five minutes to change the characters... the cord is long enough for the portal to reach... sweet

And His dulcet tones floating after one small and now late for work slave going...

Well this works, but don't think this is going to replace you hopping across the floor naked to change these over.

It was the tone of the scamper wasn't it?

Bastard!

On the road again and again

Six (sort of) local shopping centres...

Six EBs...

At some stage in here one small slave muttered that while unlikely to ever get the good slave award one should at least be in the running for the good girlfriend award...

He turned around and said you already have it... it's called a collar

Three Big Ws...

Three Targets...

Two Mr Toy Worlds...

One Toys R Us...

Later...

We are still missing one (1) figurine...

It was while doing the weekly grocery shop, at one of the more salubrious shopping centres, that one small slave discovered something interesting...

Their shopping trolleys have cup holders for your coffee and extra holders in the cart for baguettes and flowers...

Mind you at the price of their flowers you wouldn't want them rolling around with your shopping.

And one remains unconvinced by His argument that the collar is a reward at all... in fact one suspects it is the very opposite...

A spark of rebellion...

And how to stamp it out

Taking a purple top out of the miniscule wardrobe and putting it on a hook, one pulled out the boxes of bras. Peering at them one selected a nice bright red one and put it on. Slipping into the top one adjusted the neckline...

He walked into the room, looked at the colour, smiled and said I like you in purple. It was a smug smile of victory.

Reaching for a bag the neckline moved to reveal the red bra...

He laughed and said I see you are still in denial

We scampered out for what was supposed to be a few quick items and ended up as something else altogether... as it does.

See while we were out one noticed that the "Skylanders" games and characters were heavily reduced. It was something one had noticed that He had lusted after quietly, it is the Xbox answer to the Spyro of old, but with toys collectable figurines. He had looked, but resisted up until this point... mainly because He knows what he is like... slightly compulsive.  So turning to Him one asked if he would like it for a combined birthday and Christmas present. He gave one with that look...

Yes, you can have it now... honestly it was easier than listening to the wheedling that would have ensued

So we ran around all over the shopping centre... to come up two characters short.

There is a road trip planned for tomorrow... there is always a road trip L

And the evening was spent with one small slave hopping out of bed every five fucking minutes to change the character on the portal... and it had to be a different character so He could try them out.

I think when you aren't here I will just pop the portal on the end of the bed. It's going to be very frustrating to have to do this all the time.

Yes, yes it is!

Bastard!

It was meant to be...

A morning of gentle chores followed by hair, nails, general girly fluffing before scampering off to a decent hotel for cocktails and free products. A situation somewhat euphemistically named training. There was even a wine coloured dress and spiffy little snakeskin patterned shoes in a similar colour laid out.

What happened was an obscenely bad migraine

And that was all she wrote L

Threatening behaviour

Have you finished the book yet He enquired as one scampered past

Umm... no...

Have you started the other books?

Umm... might have. You know just to see if they downloaded properly...

Don't make me take the other books off your Kindle until you have finished it He said

Do that and one simply won't be reading anything... on principle.

You know the Master preferred reading list used to be mildly annoying... this is taking it to a whole new level of... something beyond that...

And you know one gets that it would make some feel all submissive or something... It does not have that effect here. It makes one just want to disobey and be petty and cut one's nose off...

Yep nothing adult going on here at all