You're welcome

Genius

http://jonnegroni.com/2013/07/11/the-pixar-theory/ 

Right now

I'm watching season 3 of The Thick of It. 

He's reading with his back to me. He reads himself to sleep. He's also reaching behind him and absentmindedly striving my right hip, my thigh, my clit. It's driving me crazy!

He wasn't well today. So I don't want to pounce on him.

He's just turned off his bedside light, rolled over to me, put his hand on my breast and fallen asleep.

I am making a wet mess on the bed.

I have no idea what this episode was about. 

Oh damn! I'm going to be masturbating for hours now.

Please disregard

Crisis averted. All previous whining and complaining retracted. He's baaaaaack!

The following photo is just because the expression on her face makes me cum.

All

I wouldn't know what to do with a safeword if I had one. I can't imagine anything else being done to me. I know now that I can endur no end of pain. He's  used fire, needles, whips, clamps, etc. I've been slapped, punched, kicked, pinched, insulted, put on display, pricked, prodded, burned, cut, bound, gagged, humiliated, twisted, squeezed, and stretched. There's more but I'd rather not get into it.

Really folks. What else is there? Bring it. Bwahahaha! I dare you!

Happy to comply

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I miss it

I used to. Now I don't. Not really. And I'm scared. If I tell him I miss it...

I can't take the thought of him saying no. So I say nothing. Because I'd rather miss it than risk rejection.

I feel like such a drama queen.

I'm miserable without his dominance.

Part of me also tells myself that if I ask for it, I'm topping from the bottom.

So I think this thing until I'm desperately crying alone at night. I can't sleep.

So far all I can do is write a stupid blog post about it.

Some say that a woman has to be strong to submit. I guess I'm weak. I guess I'm not worth being his.

I don't remember why it stopped. I remember it waning. I remember being scared that I'd lost him. I didn't say anything. What if I told him (in some way) that I didn't want it anymore?? I honestly can't recall how I lost this important part of our marriage.

I was completely his. No limits. None. Happy to give him whatever he wanted. Desperate to be his good girl. I live for those words. "Good girl." My ass warm, red, and swollen with welts. Tears drying on my face. His seed spilling out of me. His hand caressing the cheek he'd so brutally smacked. Blood drying on my tits. Shudders running through my body. I'm spent. I have nothing left to give. Then he says, "Good girl." And I could do it all again.

I want to be that again. I need it. I need him.

      ••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ok. The more rational part of me (a.k.a. My damn over thinking brain) has to clarify. We are who we are. That never changed. What I miss is the explicit BDSM. I miss the absolute brutality contrasted with utterances of "I love you". He still owns me. Undoubtedly. It's just so subtle now. He still knows what I like and I give him what he desires. But I haven't been bruised in years!

Ah, first world problems!

This is probably my 6th attempt at blogging. It's been years. I have to say I'm not happy with Google+. Maybe it takes getting used to. Blogger was much simpler before. I don't expect to blog often (given my track record).