aisha

All day yesterday, i was excited at the prospect of kinky times ahead.   i was doing productive things all day, but underneath was a simmer of excitement.

At the end of the day, home before Sir, i start cleaning up, getting ready for His arrival. i’m getting ready to put on my favorite shirt with buttons, when i feel a rush of uncertainty.

Why am i getting all tarted up for Him?  He hasn’t told me to.  He hasn’t told me to in a long time.  

No, i just assume this is what He wants.  He didn’t text me during the day or anything.  He didn’t tell me to “wear buttons.”  Why am i doing all this?

What if He comes home tired and isn’t even interested?  What if He meant we wouldn’t have time for dinner because we’re going to work on our digital picture display?  

What if He doesn’t want to be my Sir anymore?  What if we’re just going to have a vanilla relationship from now on?

As the thoughts flash through my mind, each one is more convincing than the one before it.   In no time, i’m almost certain that Sir doesn’t want to be my Dom, much less my Master.

i feel bereft.  i sigh.

Ok, i still care about Him.  We’ll work it out.  i’ll deal with it somehow.

And then, instead of putting on the black shirt with the buttons over the cute panties and bra i’d changed into, i just put on regular clothes.  And go to tidy the kitchen and empty the dishwasher. 

i feel pouty.  What am i supposed to do?  Just assume He wants me to wear that shirt?  He never gives me instructions anymore.  He never tells me what to do.  Why did i even get cleaned up?

Pout, pout, pout.  

i know i’m pouty.  i think seriously about running over here and doing a blog post on how pouty i feel.  i think about what youall would say to me.  i think  you would be sympathetic, and would point out that i need to talk to Him about it.

Fortunately, i don’t stop to blog, and i am just emptying the dishwasher when He comes home.

We hug, for a long time, as we do.  i am almost ok for a minute, but then i remember that we aren’t going to have a kinky relationship anymore and i’m sad.

i go back to emptying the dishwasher.

He looks at me a little strangely, but just says, “When you finish that,  you can fix me some coffee.”  

i say, “i’ll do it now,” but before i can close the dishwasher, He steps up behind me and grabs my breast, begins twisting the nipple.

i don’t respond as i usually do.  i kind of just stand there.  Inside, i’m still thinking how sad it is that we aren’t going to have a D/s relationship anymore.

He says, “I’m interrupting what you’re doing?” in mild tones.

i say, “No,” and then i realize i have to tell Him how i feel and what i’m thinking, and i don’t want to, but it’s like youall are watching me, waiting for me to do the right thing.  

{Did i invite youall to come eavesdrop on my life?  O, wait, yeah, i guess i did!} 

It’s soooo hard, the words don’t want to come out, but i manage to say, “i’m just in a weird head space.”

He says, “What kind of weird head space?  What happened?”

i say, “No, nothing happened, it’s just, it’s just, i feel weird, it’s stupid, i don’t know why i feel like this…”

He says, “Fix us both some coffee and we’ll sit down and talk about it.”

So i fix His coffee, and mine, which is more of a process than you might think, and when i’ve finished, He says “Put your coffee right here,” pointing to a spot on the table, “And you sit right here,” tapping his thigh, “on my lap.”

So i do, i sit on His lap, and He says, “Now tell me.”

And so i tell Him about coming home and starting to get ready, and i only get as far as “i was getting ready to change clothes, but…” when He interrupts me ~

“But you didn’t know what you were supposed to wear.  ‘Cause no one told you.”

And He wraps His arms around me, and i nod.  i’m thinking that sounds ridiculous, but He doesn’t seem to think so.

He gets it.

And i say, “Well.  You know.  i don’t have rules.  Or routines.  Or anything,” still a little pouty.

He takes over then, gently, seamlessly, but certainly.

The next thing i know, i’m wearing one of His dress shirts, a white one.   You know the kind, cotton, button-down collar, and the sleeves are so long i have to roll them three times.  It feels good, a little stiff and starch-y against my skin.

He takes me to the basement.  

Our basement is full of stuff at the moment, but there’s a clear space in the middle, and He’s put His coffee table there.  It’s covered with a towel.

There’s a towel, doubled over on the floor next to it.

This is not looking good for me.  Or maybe it is looking good, depending on how you look at it.

“Kneel,” He says.  “Mmmhmmm.  Bend over the table.  Yes.  Just like that.”

And He starts easy.  With His hand.  A gentle warm up.

Then a not so gentle warm up.  And i’m squirming and squealing a little.  And He says something ~

omg, i can’t even remember what He says, but it strikes me funny, and i start giggling.  All bent over the table, panties around my knees and i’m giggling.

“Laughing?” He says.  “You think this is funny?’

“No ~ no, i don’t,” i say, but i can’t quit giggling.

And then there’s a cane.

“Maybe this will help you stop laughing,” He says, as it swooshes across my ass.

“Omigod, i’m sure it will!” i say ~ but it doesn’t.  i’m still giggling.

And He strikes a couple of more times, but i can’t stop, i know it’s ridiculous and not even in my best interest, but the giggles win out.  

So He puts the cane down.  “Maybe this will stop all that giggling,” He says.  

i can hear Him doing something behind me, but i don’t know what, til i feel something cold and sticky ~ O ~ it’s lube, o yikes ~ 

and suddenly there’s lots of penetration, all kinds of penetration, and i’m not laughing.  Not at all.

i’m making a whole different kind of noise.  

And He’s laughing.

Once He’s quite sure i’m through giggling, the canes return, and have the intended effect.

Later, much later, we talk about the D/s aspect of our relationship.  He says He’s pleased that i was able to tell Him what i was feeling.  He says He’s been giving me some time to concentrate on the changes in my life, especially the grand baby, but it’s time to change that.

He says that in the next week or two, we’ll establish some goals for me.  A personal development goal and a sexual ~ D/s sexual ~ goal, that He’ll help me work toward.  

He says He’ll give me plenty of rules and structure.

Being the contrary creature that i can be, i’m a little nervous about that now.   After all, i don’t really need rules, do i?  i’m a good girl, i am…

Tags: BDSM, canes, Dominance, spanking, Submission