This could be bad...

In about ten days it will be Mother's Day here. Now normally we get His mother... that is to say one small slave gets and he pays... very traditional MD type presents; things like pretty pyjamas, perfume or jewellery. The problem is that she now has an elegant sufficiency of those items. Subsequently one small slave is at something of a loss.

And to be honest ThinkGeek's helpful hints aren't offering much in the way of help. Try though one may one can't imagine her getting a lot of joy out a set of "radioactive elements glowing coasters". On the other hand we would enjoy the hell out of them...

Master we need more coasters

Sighs still got no freaking idea what to get her...

Today was a black hole...

Into which one fell with migraine medication and no hope of a speedy recovery. On the bright side the body seems to have gotten over its little snit with gluten and providing one doesn't overdo it, the body will accept the good migraine meds. That was just as well 'cos they are dissolved in the mouth, which handily sidestepped the sick enough to throw up complications that precluded one taking the oral meds on this particular day.

Sighs into every dark day comes a flash of silver...

Such sweet sorrows...

Today was spent cleaning and organising and cleaning and assembling and cleaning... oh and moving furniture... heavy furniture.

Yeah the games have a home...

And everything that was behind them and under them had to be cleaned...

There are not enough martinis to make up for that kind of cleaning, but it was nice to rediscover little treasures.

The plate that was bought in the eighties... no idea who made it, but anyone who can throw a twenty inch stoneware plate can throw clay... and the colours and social commentary painted on it caught the feel of the town one was living in at the time. But at least one can find the damn plate if not the artists name... we take the wins where we can :)

Bits of jewellery that had become scattered in amongst the vases and quirky teapots became reunited.

The mobile phone collection that we are still not too sure what to do with. They might have died, but there are some rather graphic pics on them...

Lamps were cleaned off and put back on a power pack so they could be turned on... not that we spend much time in there with mood lighting

You know stuff that accumulates on flat surfaces... collecting dust. All cleaned and organised... so it can collect dust again.

Whispers maybe one is more masochistic that first thought

The payment plan

The eyes cranked open to slits and He pounced before they could open all the way. Making feeble moves towards the side of the bed one scampered to the bathroom... the reason the eyes had opened in the first place. The rest of the body had no desire to leave the bed at all. In fact the body stumbled back to bed with the idea of picking up where it had left off... sleep.

It was a fact that one made quite clear when He hauled one against his hard on. He lay there wrapped around one's body with a hand on a nipple. The body tried to resume its state of sleep, but it was less than keen about the atmosphere of intimidation. In fact, after a few minutes, it gave up electing to opt for coffee instead.

It made it all of a centimetre or two before the other body in the bed registered such obvious signs of life and tightened the grasp on assorted slave parts. The feeble cries for coffee were ignored completely... which has to be one of the issues we address when we get that slave union off the ground... as He hauled one bodily closer to the very insistent hard on.

Before a girl had time to register a formal case for coffee one was arse up being viciously thrust into.

Now some of you are probably giggling about now, but you aren't the ones going to the gym to run with dripping body parts.

Mutters this is definitely coming off the transportation debt...

Signs and portents

The day started with a migraine and ended with hair pulling, impaling sex. It was the kind of rough, aggressive sex that that leaves you gasping, wide awake and with a sore scalp... amongst other things.

There was the beginning of moving the books in between. And work.

Oddly enough the end made up for the rest of the day.

In fact it quite counteracted the whole tedious thing.

Whispers perhaps He's on the mend...

And a fine pair we made

Both of us in bed; one still sick and one with a migraine... no prizes for guessing which one was which :(

Need one say more?

Mutters this has got to get better... we want our life back, not the recent one, the one before that when we were having fun