A View from the Floor

So, yeah, I’ve been  jabbering about patience and this itch lately. Not the itchy back (though that STILL itches like a bitch in heat) but the itch for…  something. Something more.

And, yanno, I think I had a Eureka! minute today.

I think my patience is holding out so well because I’m in a spot where I don’t even know what the “more” I want is.

I mean…

I want him to haul my by my hair and toss me to the floor. And yet I want him to tenderly stroke my face and run his hands thru my hair. I want him to twist my nipples nearly off my tits and yet I want him to kiss me slow and soft and breathless. I want snuggles. I want pain. I want tenderness. I want brutality. I want humiliation and I want loving softness.

We’ve been so busy, I think, there just hasn’t been time or energy for much of anything personal. And so my neediness has no focus. I want…  a smörgÃ¥sbord!

The problem?

I know…  know…  that when I get like this - even though I’ve been patient and not cuntish about it -  it makes it hard for him. Anything he tries to do just isn’t quite “it” at the moment. It never fails that when he tries to twist my nipples off at that moment I was wanting a snuggle. Yanno? So it feels all kinds of off in my head. Which leaves me responding less than enthusiastically which has him often going..  eh…  fuck it then….  and leaving me to wallow in my need.

So the solution?

Accept what he chooses to do, whatever that may be, whatever direction it goes…  and enjoy it. Should be simple but my brain often fucks with me there. So I have to keep a foot on my brain, hold it’s wayward thoughts down and just enjoy what comes next.

Because if I stop worrying about what I think I need in the moment and just take what he’s giving me with a bit of grace…

I’ll likely find he read my needs better than my own stupid head did!

Right?

Right.

So…

Eureka!

Is it just me or is this picture unbearably hot JUST because her arm is all dirty?

I probably shouldn’t browse porn sites. Taylor’s already in bed…

*sigh*

*scratchscratchscratch*

I got this today. Multiple “O” doggie collar - Collar - EdenFantasys I’ll be doing a review on it eventually but, for now, I just want to say SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

I love it! Not nearly as “pink” as it look. Girly but not stupidly so. I can’t wait, wait, WAIT for Taylor to put it on me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“The mark of the best slaves is patience…..infinite patience…”
Laura Antoniou

Not, of course, that I’m a slave. And if you try to call me one I’m likely to shoot you in your pinky toe. But, yanno, I just don’t like the word. The job is the same no matter what I, you or they call it.

I’ve been using a LOT of patience lately.

See, Taylor’s been workin’ these mad, crazy hours. Up at twenty after three, out the door by just after three thirty (yes, in the morning. He says he doesn’t just get up at the ass crack of dawn but crawls out of Satan’s ass) and he’s gone until four or five in the evening.

He comes home, has dinner, fiddles on his forum, reads email, watches a movie and is in bed before it’s even dark out so he can do the whole thing over again the next day.

Doesn’t leave much time for…  well…  much of anything else, does it?

And here’s me with this itch.

Beyond the itch I’m just sort of bored at home alone most days. Even the teen scrambles out of the house as soon as he’s clear of chores and isn’t usually seen again until on-the-dot-of-his-curfew.

There’s only so much a person can masturbate, yanno?

And, sure, I could go to bed when Taylor does and it’s fairly likely we’d fuck like bunnies before he falls asleep.

And sometimes I do. We do.

But it’s not just sex I’m itchy for. And getting the Man in the mood for…  more…   when he’s quite focused on Satan’s ass is a bit difficult.

Gah.

Which brings me back to patience.

If someone had told me a decade ago that I’d have such stores of it I’d have laughed in their face.

But it turns out I actually do.

I’ve settled into a place where I patiently wait, where the resentment and longing rarely bubble up and over into a froth of misbehavior and attention seeking bullshit, where I don’t have to tell myself it’s my place to wait for what he has time and energy and desire to give me but I actually know it’s my place - bone deep - and I DO sit and wait….

Sounds almost boring, right?

And so then I wonder…

Oh. My. God.

Am I boring???????? Has it all become common place and routine and bland and THAT’S why???

And, yanno, I don’t think so. I know, rationally, that it’s just the hectic schedule and long days. But fuck me if I’m able to stop that one, wee niggling voice that’s whispering….

boringggggggggg.

Nice to know I can still torture myself.

Our new video clip site. Tough Love

Not much on it yet. Still working on splitting up and posting a long session but at least it’s up and running!

Yes, indeed.
My back itches so much I’d like to claw at it with a garden rake.
Unfortunately Taylor did some more cutting on it this weekend and if I rake it I’ll likely mess up the design and it won’t scar properly and then he’ll have to kill me.

And so I suffer.

I actually can’t tell if it’s the cutting that itches or the misery stick marks.
And then I realize it’s quite sad to have healing cuts and misery stick marks and only feel an urge to itch.
Where’s the lingering pain, man??????

Gods, how I suffer.

Have I mentioned before how much I love the misery stick? How it sucks, sucks, sucks while it’s being used but I also fantasize the entire time about just how ragingly horny the feeling would make me if we had them at home and could use them before, during and after a fuck? Or, ok, just in private where I can let go a little more easily?

I shiver, I tell you, I shiver with longing. (One of our favorite Friendly Neighborhood Meanies has said he’ll make us some. Yay!)

So now that I’ve rambled fairly nonsensically…

Yes, we went to the monthly play party.
Yes, I got misery sticked and scalpled.
Yes, I got to see kaya and her wonderful Man again. (Best part, I tell ya)
And, yes, I’m craving more cuz my back itches rather than aches or stings or any of that other, residual good stuff.

Which also means I feel a needy phase coming on.

The ache is building. The hungry knot in the belly is tightening. The nerves are twitching and the attitude is responding in kind. I can feel myself growing short and tense…

Have I ever mentioned how I loathe this feeling?

We’re back online, anyway.

We switched our stuff over from cable to AT&T and are actually happier with that than we were with cable. The phone works better, the internet connection is faster and the satellite tv is so far so good. We need to upgrade to a better channel package but otherwise the service is impeccable.

Yay!

BDSM wise everything is steady as she blows.

We’ve made it thru our money struggles with barely a bump in the D/s road and I have to feel that’s a hella accomplishment.

The monthly play party is bumped up a week this month to next weekend and I’m even - *gasp* - giving up my opportunity to play so that Taylor can whack someone else around. Heh!

We had a pretty intense scene last month - which left me marked for nearly two weeks and was exactly what I’d asked nicely for - so I’m feeling both generous and not really “up” to anything else in public quite yet.

Perhaps I’m craving something intense and harsh during our alone time? Could be.

I also know Taylor will be thrilled to beat on someone else for a change. He really does like the challenge of new flesh on occasion. New reactions. New triggers. Not needing to mess up his arm to hit someone as hard as he needs to hit me. lol.

It works out quite well that I’m feeling blah about another scene in public so soon cuz, while it’s definitely his choice when we play and if he plays with me or someone else, I have to admit he’s kind about it and generally won’t choose to give someone else what I’m needing if I’m needing it.

Since I don’t it works out wonderfully that we’ll all get some of what we need without me feeling all jealous and neglected. Right? Right.

Anyhow…

I actually have a “meaningful” post brewing in my brain after catching up on all the blogs I read and being inspired by a couple of them so now that we’re back (after a much shorter absence than we expected) look for it soon.

xoxo

Just wanted to let folks know that our cable/internet is gonna be off for awhile come the end of the week.
We’ve been really, really struggling with money this past year and it’s the one thing we’re behind on that’s not a “necessity”.
We barely managed to keep the utilities from being shut off for another month and we’re a month behind on rent, too, so I can’t justify putting an internet connection and tv ahead of that and food.

Hopefully things will take a turn for the better for us soon and I’ll be back with y’all before ya know it.

Ok. That title has absolutely nothing to do with my life or this post. LOL. The song is playing on MTV at the moment and my fingers typed it on their own.

Been quiet - very quiet - lately. I guess that’s cuz life is quiet.

We’re struggling with money and it’s got me down.

Thankfully our relationship isn’t being much effected by it. Things are still just sort of smooth sailing in the D/s arena, both of us forgiving easily any snappish or odd behavior because we totally understand the stress the other is under.

I’ve been pretty focused on my diet and exercise program lately.

I joined Sparks people and I’m working really hard on tracking calories and learning what a portion size looks like - and how many portions of what kinds of food I can eat every day and actually feel and be healthy.

I continue with the daily yoga - though I don’t know if I’ve even mentioned that here - and I’m improving every week.

I can now touch my toes fairly easily!

And attempting to do it with Taylor in the house some days is a true test of submission.

It never fails that he either calls me from outside or the basement to interrupt me - or starts talking and pointing stupid video clips out to me while I”m trying to focus on breath and position.

The other day I even decided I deserved “slave of the day” award because he interrupted me SIX times during one forty minute session even though I’d, nicely, requested he not call me for an hour so I could get it done. So, yes, he knew what I was doing and called that many times anyhow. I held my tongue, held my sighs, gritted my teeth and patiently listened to the”updates” he HAD to give me on gopher holes or motorcycle parts or something. Sure, he was ruining my yoga but…

No sense both of us being buttheads, right? I listened, responded sweetly, and went back to yoga…  cursing him soundly in my head as a sort of mantra. Lol.

And that, my friends, is about it.

Perhaps the deep thought bug will bite me soon but for now….

Life is quiet.

In lieu of words, since I don’t seem to have any this week, here’s an HNT post for you. (My first, I believe. Oy)