Remember Me?

Yes, it's been a while, so don't mind the dust and cobwebs around here.  I haven't "poofed" from the blog-o-sphere without an explanation.

I just haven't written anything.

That doesn't mean there wasn't/isn't anything to write about.  There was/is...but sometimes the words don't come.

A lame excuse, to be certain, but it is the truth none-the-less.

So, as I have said so many times before, we are here, our dynamic is in-tact, and life moves forward as it does.  Work is keeping me busy, and a busy me is not always in the mood for kinky-freaky-sexy stuff at the end of the day.  And, a busy me is not always in the mood to write when kinky-freaky-sexy stuff does happen.

Thus, no blog posts, which makes for a very boring  blog, I know.  I am a bad blogger.  Is there an award for that?  If so, I think I would win.

All that aside, what have we been up to?  He recently passed by where I was sitting one evening and lamented the lack of collar around my neck.  When I nicely pointed out that we are not alone (our college student, who is still in college and working, still lives with us), He sighed.  I offered to put on my outdoor collar, which I wear to work every day, but He said no, and mentioned some of my other in-door collars, which could not be worn for obvious reasons.  It would be difficult to explain to our college student why I was sitting in the living room, watching TV, while wearing a dog's choke chain.  Thus, while at home, I am collar-less.  Away from home, I am collared.  Does that make sense?  It doesn't, but it does, in a very sad sort of way.

Collar issues aside, He has been wanting to indulge in some rope bondage, followed by a good beating of my ass.  Unfortunately for Him, Mother Nature had other plans.  Just as He formulated the type of bondage He wanted to use, and how He wanted to abuse me, Ma Nature decided to visit 4 (yes, FOUR) days early.  Yes, she is a bitch.

Undeterred, He decided He would abstain from pleasure during my monthly visit, as another thing He wanted to do was indulge in rough oral sex that culminated in Him cumming all over my face while I wore my glasses.  He figured that abstaining would increase the volume of cum that covered my face and spectacles after He'd abused my mouth and throat.

However, it appears that I am too much of a temptress; on day five, after fucking my mouth while I lay on my back with my head hanging over the edge of the bed,  He caved.  He ordered me to suck His cock at some ungodly hour, I think around 4am, and that was the end of His plans.

It was a good blow-job, though.

So, that's about it.  Life goes on, and one day we will be alone together, and I will wear an in-door collar, and Mother Nature will play nice, and He will tie me up and beat my ass so that it hurts when I sit while at work....

And hopefully I will blog about it all.

Summertime...

Here I am, back again after saying I'd write more frequently, and I haven't, which makes no sense because there's plenty to write about.  Lazy slave-girl blogger, that's me.

I am currently on vacation, and we are thoroughly enjoying each other's company.  We've eaten good food, watched good movies, followed sports together (it's Le Tour de France at the moment), and we've spent lots of time in the bedroom.

There's no other way to say it:  the sex has been amazing.

And the beatings have been pretty impressive, too.  He's been judicious with the cane, using it to leave lovely marks, and to make me cry.  He also slapped my pussy while I was having an orgasm (first time He's done that), and wow, what a sensation.  I would like to see if I can orgasm from the slapping, which is probably a dangerous thing to say, since He will read this and be only to happy to work on that.

Anyway,  there you have it, a condensed version of what we've been up to these past few weeks. Not terribly titillating, but it will have to do for now.

Owned

It's the little things....

Like when He reaches for you in bed, grabs a fistful of hair, pulls your head back for a moment, long enough to remind you that you are His, then shoves your head down toward His waiting erection...

Or when He puts both hands of top of your head and forces your mouth down on His hard cock, and keeps you there until you are just about to run out of air...

Or when He pushes you over onto your back, kneels in between your legs, wraps a hand around each ankle, spreads you wide open and thrusts His cock deep into your pussy, so deep that it hurts...

As He impales you over and over, He growls, "Is this what you want?"

And all you can do is whisper, "Yes."

An Unlikely Evil Toy...

Like so many other millions (billions?) of people around the planet, Master and I have been wrapped up in the World Cup games for the past ten or so days.  We have managed to catch almost every minute of every game, with a few exceptions.

Yesterday was no different.  We watched the early match between Russia and Belgium, then settled in to watch South Korea face Algeria.  It became apparent, after the start of the second half of the match, that Algeria had the game well in hand, so we decided to take a soccer break and head into the bedroom for some kinky-sexy-fun time.

After making sure I was up for some rough play, (I was---but He was kind enough to ask because He knew I hadn't felt 100% earlier in the day), He bent me over the end of the bed and pressed Himself against my ass.  His hands rubbed my back, over my hips, across my butt...He moaned, I moaned...just touching felt so good.

Then He stepped away and put His hand between my legs.  He rubbed gently, softly, and oh god, did that ever feel good.  It felt even better when He slapped it...not too hard, but just hard enough to make me jump a little.  He repeated this a few times, then went digging around in the drawer where the ouchie-toys live, toys like Mr. Cane, Mr. Blister, Thud, the pretty paddle I got Him for His birthday two years ago.

But He didn't pick any of those toys.  Nope.  He picked this:

Looks harmless enough, no?  Soft rubber handle, light-weight plastic body, pretty, soft purple feather to top it all off?

Hah!  Guess again!

Oh yes, the pretty purple feather feels wonderful, and ticklish, when brushed against aroused body parts, up and down one's legs, across one's back.  But then there's the light-weight plastic body of the thing.  That's a different story.

Master decided it was very cane-like in design, so He just had to see if it would be cane-like in useage.  The answer is a resounding "NO."  This little guy, so quiet and unassuming, bites. BITES in a big, OUCH, make the slave-girl jump kind of way.

Naturally, this delighted Him to no end, so He put it to good use on my poor sweet spots, setting my poor butt-cheeks on fire.  Once on fire, He fucked me, hard, grinding Himself against my burning ass, His pleasure in causing me double the pain quite evident.  To be fair, I enjoyed it, too. Pain and pleasure mixed together is a heady combination.

We finished things up on the bed.  He brought me to orgasm, which left me a wet, spent mess on the bed, and then He moved on top of me, entered me with His rock hard cock and fucked me until He came.

It was the perfect way to take a break from all of the World Cup action.

Coffee Talk...

This morning, while enjoying coffee together, the topic of conversation turned to gags. He expressed a desire for a ring gag, but He'd also like a spider gag.  Such a predicament...naturally He concluded that it might be best to get one of each, then do some type of 'compare and contrast' testing with them, to see which one He prefers.

Tough job, being the Master.

"It Looks Like a Kiss..."

"Maybe you should write about it."

He said those words as He admired a bruise on my right hip, a bruise left-over from a beating that took place more than a week ago, a bruise that despite it's age, is still very dark and very purple.

"It looks like a kiss," He added.

I looked at it in the mirror, and He was right.  It looks like a dark purple kiss.

However, the point in all of this is His words, not the bruise.  This was the first time in a very, very long time that's He's mentioned the blog, and my response was to sort of shrug and declare that I didn't know what to do with this place.

And I don't, really, which is the reason for my prolonged absence.  I find my writing to be repetitious and boring, which annoys me greatly as our life is anything but repetitious and boring, yet I am unable to convey that through the written word.

But it doesn't matter what I think about this blog, does it?

He likes it.  He likes to read what I write.  So, if He wants me to write, then I will write, because pleasing Him pleases me.

And in case anyone is wondering why the bruise in question is on my right hip and NOT on my right butt-cheek, well, that's because during the beating He decided it would be cool to give me a racing stripe by smacking me on the side with the cane.  Yeah, I know...

See?  Things are pretty much still the same around here.

Something Kinky This Way Comes...

There's been some kink around here for the past few weeks.

Yesterday Master paddled my behind.  And He was kind enough to start nice and slow, before ramping it up to the point where it felt like the edges of the leather were slicing into my butt cheeks. I wasn't restrained, so when I tried to stand up in protest, I was quickly pushed back into place.

It was very exciting, and some very hot sex followed the paddling.

And last weekend, we did something...different.  I thought it was kinky, which surprised Master, who thought it was just really good sex.  After I tell you about it, you can come to your own conclusion.

See, about two weeks ago, I got a new pair of glasses.  New prescription (I can see!), new frames (no more granny-glasses!), the whole package.  Master was there when I picked out the frames, so they had His seal of approval.  I have to say, the new frames are much sexier than the old ones. The old ones really did look like granny would wear them.

Now here I am, with my new shorter hair, and my new sexy glasses, and Master starts to think about...things.  So last weekend He suggested that I shower, shave and make myself pretty...and to put my hair up into two ponytails.  Being a good slave-girlie, I did as instructed, and when I emerged from the bathroom, I was quickly ordered to sit on the little stool.

Some very, very rough oral sex followed, with my ponytails providing handy handles for Master to grab onto while He choked me with His cock.  Repeatedly.  At one point I pushed against His thighs because I was afraid I was going to throw up, but fortunately, that unpleasantness was avoided.

Once He was finished ravishing my face, He ordered me to put on my new glasses and lay on the bed.  He straddled my face, erection in hand, and I swirled my tongue around His balls while He stroked His cock.  I licked and sucked and He stroked and stroked and eventually, He came.  All over my new glasses.

Actually, there was cum everywhere. It coated my glasses, it was in my hair, on my cheeks, in my mouth and, sadly, up my nose.  I was a messy girl.  And Master loved it.

Afterward, He regretted not taking a photo of my messy face, but then realized that we would just have to do it again so He could get a picture.  I'm okay with that...except the cum-up-the-nose part. That was not fun.

Can you see why I thought this was kinky?  Cumming on a girl's glasses seems kinky to me, but maybe I'm wrong.  Kinky or not, it was lots of fun to try something new.

Just Can't Get Enough...

We had sex today, rough sex, the kind of sex where He makes it very clear who is in charge.  He grabbed me, pinched my nipples, pushed me up against the wall and kissed me hard.  Then He put His hands on my arms and moved me down onto the little stool.

The little stool, which is very low to the ground, has one purpose:  oral sex.  When I sit on the little stool, my face meets up with His crotch at just the right height.  Mouth, meet cock.  Today wasn't about sucking, though.  Today was about getting my face fucked.  Hard, deep, and fast, with His hands on the back of my head.

So deep that breathing was optional.  So hard and fast that at times, I seriously thought I was going to vomit.  My eyes teared up, snot started to flow, drool was everywhere, and it wasn't pretty.

But I sure was turned on.  He was too, but you already knew that.

When it was all over, we talked about it, about the roughness of it.  I said I liked it.  I like when He is uber-Dominant, when He takes what He wants, when He is rough.  I like that He didn't restrain me.  I like having to keep my hands still, to refrain from pushing Him away from me when I can't breathe.  I like the feel of His cock pressing hard against the back of my throat.  I like the flood of panic when I can't get enough air.  I like to gag on His cock right up until the edge of throwing up. I like having to take it.  I like that He makes me take it.

Twisted, yes, but it's a rush.  All of it.

We should do it more often.

D'oh!

As I got ready for work yesterday, all showered and made-up and getting dressed in my work-clothes, I turned to Master and said, "I really like my hair this length.  I think I'll keep it this way."

He gazed at me, and replied, in a rather dry manner, "You may keep it that way."

Oopsie.  See how easy it easy for that pesky little Master/slave thingie to slip a person's slave's mind?

Without missing a beat, I quickly said, "Yes, Master," and gave Him a kiss.

But I am very glad He will let me keep it this length.

Food Can Wait...

Master picked me up from work last Thursday, and on the way home I noted that I was hungry, and then listed several different things we could eat once we arrived home.  "We have some things to do first," He said, "before we eat."

"We do?" I asked, like a dummy, wracking my brain to figure out what needed to be done.

"Yes," He replied, "I'm going to beat your ass."  He continued, quite serious as He added, "And I don't think you want a belly full of food when I shove my cock down your throat."

I think I squeaked out an "Okay" and squirmed in my seat a little.  Clearly, food could wait.

As I've noted before in this blog, He is a man of His word.  He did indeed beat my ass, and was nice enough to start with the purple flogger.  It's been quite a while since my butt had a beating, so the flogger was a nice way to ease back into things, so to speak.  The flogger felt nice, it hurt but the pain wasn't overbearing.  It was a good pain, the kind you can sink into and then float away.

However, that didn't happen, because He's a Sadist, and soon He abandoned the flogger for Thud. This produced a new pain, a sharp biting pain with a little punch at the end of it, all over my backside.  Thud didn't stick around for too long, though, as Thud was abandoned for Mr. Cane.

Once He had Mr. Cane in His hand, Master grabbed my ponytail, wrapped it several times around His hand, and pulled my head back, hard.  He applied the cane hard and fast, and that rapid caning gets me every time.

I cried.  More evidence of my membership in the wimpy-slave girl club.

He took pity on me, I think, and told me to climb on the bed.  He brought me to orgasm, which was divine.  Post-crying orgasms always are.

Once I was satiated, He told me to lie sideways on the bed with my head hanging over the edge. With my mouth at just the proper height, He stood in front of me and shoved His cock into my mouth.  He held onto my tits and fucked my face good and proper, and ultimately rewarded me with a mouthful of cum.

So, continued proof that we are not vanilla...not by a long shot.

Idle Hands...

You know the saying, "Idle hands are the Devil's workshop"?  Or it's variation, "Idle hands are the Devil's playground"?  Well, I've written another variation:  "Idle hands are the Sadist's workshop."

See, we'd been planning to play this weekend.  We had the house to ourselves for the first time in what seemed like forever, so playing was the plan.  However, the weekend arrived and the days passed...without any play.  We were busy doing stuff and the timing just wasn't right.  There was good sex, but no ropes, toys or pain.

I wasn't upset (really, I wasn't), but on Monday night I asked Him if we were vanilla now.  It was a semi-serious question, but given our mutual perceived lack of interest in anything kinky these days, I felt it was worth asking.

His answer was a resounding "No." (Imagine a very manly, very Domly, very firm, "No.")

Of course, me being me, I replied with, "Are you sure?"

His answer was a resounding "Yes." (Again, imagine a very manly, very Domly, very firm, "Yes.")

Yesterday, on our last day of having-the-house-to-ourselves-time, He showed me just how non-vanilla we are, and how crafty/sneaky He is.  After tying me spread-eagle on the bed, He told me He had a surprise for me, a new toy, a toy He'd made all by Himself.

It seems on Monday, while waiting for me to finish work, He had some time on His hands (this is where the "Idle hands" quote comes in). He had enough time to make a zipper using twine and wooden clothespins.  He then hid this from me until I was tied up yesterday.

He was proud of His handi-work, and He tried it out on my boobs, my inner-thighs, my sides, and lastly, on my pussy.  If you are wondering if it hurt when He "unzipped" it, it did.  But it was also very exciting, for both of us.  In fact, He liked it so much He plans to make another, longer zipper, maybe even two.

And the zipper-play was followed by a short but very intense round of pussy and breast slapping that brought me to the verge of tears, which showed me that I'm out of practice.  Seriously. I've never cried from a pussy spanking, but I was damn close yesterday.  The word 'wimp' comes to mind.  However, orgasms for everyone followed the slapping, and it was all good.

So, no, we are most definitely not vanilla.  And, idle hands are most definitely the Sadist's workshop.  His zipper is proof.

In Case You Were Wondering...

No, nothing kinky here, sorry.

Yes, it's been a long time since my last post.

No, nothing kinky occurred in the interim.

Yes, that's a long time without kink.

No, I'm not having a pout.

Yes, we are still happy and our dynamic is in place and there's been tons of great sex.

No, He's not having a pout either (see the "tons of great sex"mentioned above).

Yes, there is sexy-freaky-kinky time on the horizon.

No, not this weekend, but the next.

Yes, we will, for the first time in a loooooooong time, have the house to ourselves, and He's already mentioned something about being tied up.

No,  He won't be the one tied up, that will be me.

Yes, I will write about it after it happens.

No, I don't have anything more to say.  For now.

What Were We Thankful For?

As I noted in my last post, it's difficult to maintain a kink blog when there's no kink.  And kink's been in short supply around here for the past few months.  Sometimes that happens.  Life sweeps everyone up in work, busy schedules, family,  and other stuff (like a menstrual cycle that arrives promptly once a month and stays for seven days....grrrr.  I'm glad Ma Nature shows up, don't get me wrong, but I wish she would shorten her visit by a few days).

Anyway, we usually travel to visit family for Thanksgiving, but due to conflicting work schedules, our travel plans were cancelled.  For the first time in a long while, we spent Turkey Day at home, just the three of us, Master, me, and our college student.

However, the college student had to work during the day.  That meant Master and I had some long overdue, uninterrupted time alone.

Time for kinky stuff.  Early Thursday morning I mentioned something about getting my butt beat. He responded that He was interested in beating something else:  my pussy.  That was fine with me, as that's my favorite kink of them all.

When we found ourselves alone in the afternoon, He tied me to the bed, spread-eagle.  I was nervous, excited, exposed, and did I mention nervous?  It had been a long time since I'd received any pain, especially down there, and I wasn't sure how I would do.

Once He was satisfied I wasn't going anywhere (read: nice tight rope work), He got down to business.  Now remember, this is the Man who does not know the meaning of the term "warm-up." So it makes sense that since my butt never gets one of those elusive creatures, neither does my pussy.

He smacked my poor, tender, freshly shaven skin using a variety of instruments. I couldn't see exactly what He was using to torment me, but they all hurt.  I felt the edge of every single one of them, and I was positive at one point that my pussy lips were cut to bits. (They weren't, but sometimes we 's-types' tend to over-dramatize the moment).

Occasionally He would take a break, caress the skin, slip a finger or two inside to see how embarrassingly wet I was, then tell me, "I think you like this."

Sadist.

It hurt, but it was so very, very, very arousing.  And when He held my lips apart to smack my clit? I died and went to heaven.

Finished with the beating portion of our play time, He brought out the Hitachi wand.  Ever wonder what the Hitachi wand feels like on freshly spanked pussy lips?  It felt like a belt sander.  A. Belt. Sander.

I've never felt pain from the Hitachi---it always feels good.  Not this time.  I tried to wait it out, see if the sensation changed, but it didn't.  So I told Him that it was painful, and not in a good way. Being the good Master that He is, He went and grabbed some lube.  He rubbed it around my pussy, then reapplied the Hitachi, on low.

The lube took away the belt-sander sensation, and it didn't take me long to cum after that.  I was a happy, floaty slave girl, more than ready to suck His cock and return the orgasmic favor.

So what were we thankful for on Thursday?  The return of kink, naturally.

You Want Me to Sleep Where???

Sometimes, or rather most of the time, I find it difficult to keep a kink-related blog current when there isn't any kink going on in my life.  This is not a complaint.  There's been plenty of great sex going on around here the past week (there always is), but nothing that would fall into the kink/BSDM category.

I think the closest we got to anything kinky was last night, when He told me I was acting somewhat entitled, and perhaps I needed some punishment.  When I laughed at this, He suggested that I might have to sleep out in the living room with the cats, rather than in our bed.

After I somewhat facetiously pointed out that He was being rather mean, He relented, saying that He preferred having me in bed with Him, and He would be unhappy if I wasn't.

Awww....I know, how sweet.

So that's about it as far as kink goes.  Life rolls on, and we continue to find ourselves busy and planning for the holidays.  But if anything truly kinky happens, I will write about it.  I promise.

Boo! Did I Scare You?

Here is an update:

• There was a beating!  Three days ago, and it was awesome.  It involved back scratching (the hard kind, where He digs His nails into my skin and it feels O.M.G. so painfully delicious), some hand-spanking, and the use of Thud.  It all hurt so good...so, so good.  And it was followed by orgasms for everyone (amazing! orgasms, I might add), which is icing on the cake...tasty icing.
• We are still busy, so busy these days, and part of the reason is that I've returned to work. And that is a good thing, a really good thing.  My job, while only part-time, is ideal, and while it leaves me tired at the end of a work-day, I get to do what I enjoy doing, and for that I am grateful.
• I am also grateful for Master.  He is awesome in so many ways, and here is one example. Today I ended up working extra hours, which was good.  Unfortunately, I left behind a rather messy kitchen (which makes me a bad slave, I know, I know).  However, when He brought me home, imagine my surprise when I walked into a SPOTLESS kitchen.  And I mean SPOTLESS.  He did the dishes, ran the dishwasher AND cleaned the counters and stove top.  I love Him so, so much.
• And last but not least, Happy Halloween!

Guess What?

No beating.

As in, there was no beating, and there will be no beating.  No matter what I needed, no matter what I wanted...no beating.

Why?

Because we were busy, and we were tired, and then we were tired and busy, and life, real life, has no regard for kinky-needs or butts that need beating.

And, to top it all off, Mother Nature showed up this weekend for her monthly visit.  Right. On. Time.  She is one punctual bitch, and she doesn't have any regard for kinky-needs or butts that need beating, either.

So, yesterday, I kind of had a pout.  To myself...at least I think I kept it to myself---Master may have a different opinion on that, but I tried.  I feel less pouty today, and I will feel even less pouty tomorrow.  And we will again be busy this week, but hopefully by the time the weekend rolls around again, and Mother Nature has departed, we will make time for a little bit of pain.

Hopefully.

*crosses fingers*

Ask and You Shall Receive...

In yesterday's post, I wondered if posting that I needed a beating qualified as the ever-dreaded "Topping From The Bottom."  As I wasn't sure, I said I would ask Master.

Right after He read the post, I said, "Well, is it Topping From The Bottom?"

His response?

"I don't know...It doesn't bother me, so I guess it isn't."

So there you have it.

By the way, I still need a beating.

Bite the Bullet...

This is a bullet post, because I have lots of little, unconnected thoughts floating around in my brain.

• Master named our new toy "Thud."  For the record, I present this information without comment.
• We fooled around last night, and after He brought me to orgasm, He came all over my face. A good time was had by all.
• Our toy box, which is literally a cardboard box, has exploded all over our closet and I need to clean it up and organize it.  I'm putting this here so that I will, in fact, clean it up and organize it. (It exploded quite a while ago...)
• The other morning, early, Master curled up next to me in bed, ran His hands over and around my curves for a while, then said, "You are a good little slave girl."  Best. Compliment. Ever.
• I am going to get my hair cut.  Master gave His blessing, and I want to cut off about 12-15 inches.  Now I just need to work up the courage to walk into a salon and get it done.  Yes, yes, I have issues with someone cutting my hair, but I am going to do it.  Maybe next week...
• I need a beating.  It won't happen today, but maybe tomorrow.  Yes, tomorrow would be good.  No, this is not topping from the bottom, I mean really, I would never...
• Okay, maybe I would, and maybe it is topping from the bottom.  Or is it?  Perhaps I should ask Master what He thinks.
• I'm hungry.  I'd also like more coffee, but that's probably a bad idea since I've already had two cups.
• This is the last bullet.  I will leave you with this photo of Thud.  It's a little more of a close-up, so you can see what the nylon mesh covering looks like.

Meet the Newest Addition to Our Toy Box...

As I mentioned in the previous entry, today was our trip to The Big City.  It was a bit adventurous, but we visited our favorite BDSM Adult Store and made a purchase.

This is what we bought ("we" meaning Master--He picked it out and paid for it):

I'm not really sure how to describe it.  It's 25 inches long, half-an-inch in diameter, and it has a rubber grip on one end.  The body is covered in nylon mesh, the tip is capped with black plastic, and it weighs a quarter of a pound.  It's heavy.  It looks whippy, and it acts whippy, but upon impact, it isn't.

Oh, and it hurts.  A lot.

Once we were back at home, Master tied my wrists together with some purple rope, bent me over the end of the bed, then secured my arms to the headboard with the ends of the rope.  If you asked Him, He would tell you that He gave me a warm-up before using this new toy on me.  He's correct, if you define "warm-up" as two hand spanks on each ass-cheek.  Enough said about that.

The first few strokes with this new toy were all tip; I'm guessing He was getting a feel for the thing. Since I am nothing if not a helpful slave (hah!), I told Him about this.  I said all the energy was going to the tip.  (It felt like getting punched by little tiny fists, which produces a really strange visual, and I apologize for that.)

He changed His swing after my comment, or maybe He changed His position, I don't know because my face was in the mattress and I couldn't see Him.  However, when He hit me with it again, I no longer felt only the tip--I felt the whole thing.  And it was weird (in a good way) because it felt hard, like a cane, but with a deeper, ouchier pain, pain that lingered longer than the pain from a cane stroke.

It hurt, but I liked it (oh how He will love to read that statement...).  I was hoping it would leave some nice marks/bruises, but all it left me with was a really pink bottom.  Clearly we will need to experiment with this thing to determine how hard He can swing it without breaking my butt.

We also need to name this toy so I don't have to keep referring to it as a "thing."  I made a few suggestions, but they did not meet with Master's approval, so now it's up to Him to name it.

Here's one more picture.  If you know what this is called, by all means leave the name in the comments section.  It will be greatly appreciated.

Remember me?

Once again, I return here to wipe away the dust and save my poor little blog from abandonment. Although to be honest, I never really abandoned this place.  I came here, often, and thought about writing (and it is the thought that counts, yes?), but nothing ever sounded right, so I closed it out and left, only to come back later and the pattern repeated itself all over again.

There were a few instances where The Man poked and prodded and gently suggested I blog, especially after the last beating when He left my ass with a beautiful set of stripes, courtesy of Mr. Cane, but alas, the words did not come.

That was almost three weeks ago.  Sigh. Ah well, I guess what really matters is I am here now, and the words are flowing a little easier today.

While I don't have any recent kinky details to share, I can tell you that we are doing fine. We are looking forward to having the house to ourselves next weekend (our college student will be out of town for several days), and Master wants to take a trip to the Big City and visit our favorite BDSM store.  There's been some talk of purchasing a companion for Mr. Cane, something a little thinner and whippier, despite my insistence that Mr. Cane prefers being alone and does not need a friend.

I mean, really, who knows Mr. Cane better than me?  After all, that cane and I have been intimately acquainted for almost six years...six long years...six long years of wondering why the damn thing won't break or spontaneously combust...

Anyway, a trip to the Big City will definitely give me something to write about, and who knows, maybe I will manage to write something before then.  Stay tuned.