So What's New?

And these days I'm just sick all the time. 

It's gross. How do people stand it. Why do people have more than one?

I was driving and almost barfed in my car the other day. I was so rattled I couldn't seem to figure out that I needed to pull over or open the door or at least the window.

Fortunately I didn't.

Sorry. Not much real blog. Maybe if I ever don't feel sick all the time?

News

Sorry it's been so long.

Things have been different around here.

We're talking about getting married. 

And I'm pregnant. So we both sort of think we should.

And I haven't told anyone but him yet. And now you. I'm trying it out to see how it works.

Because you aren't supposed to tell til 3 months right?

And I'm so tired all the time. Is that normal? Is that being pregnant or is that strange? I sleep all the time.

And he's afraid of hurting me all of a sudden. So... I'm not sure how that's going to work. He thinks I'm made of glass suddenly.

Cat and Mouse

His favorite thing is breast torture.

He plays a lot with nipples,  that's often his focus with quick little pinches and twists or more deliberate clamping sessions.

Thursday he clamped my nipples with the little tweezer clamps. He put them on me, pushing the rings up slowly, watching my tits, my face for feedback. Then, as he often does, he straightened one of them, taking it off and replacing it so it would be perfectly vertical.

And then, rather than playing with me more, he tucked my tits roughly back in my bra, which hurt. And then, a little while later, he pulled my panties off, I thought maybe to spank me, but no, he just took the panties and stuffed them roughly in my bra. It was staggering how much more that hurt. He's never done that before and I sort of want him to do it again, because it was so mean and it hurt so much and he was so indifferent and probably even unknowing of how much that escalated things.

And then, he just waited.

Because Dominants always win the pain waiting game don't they.

And he played with me. Cat and mouse I think.

They hurt more and more and eventually, I begged him to take the clamps off me.  I couldn't take the pain; I was starting to freak.

And eventually he fucked me. And came. And waited some more. Though I didn't cum. That wasn't what the session was about.

And I begged him again. Please to take the clamps off me.

And he started to play sexually with me. He reached between my legs, and pointed out that I was slick and sloppy with his cum. He said it like he was disgusted but he loves finding the mark of his ownership that way.

He played and stroked and rubbed and eventually asked me if I wanted to cum. I said I wanted him to please take the clamps of and he laughed a little and said that wasn't the question. So I said I did want to cum. So he rubbed a little more, and then told me it was too much work and that if I wanted to get off I could do the work and rub myself on his fingers til I got off.

And I squirmed and rubbed and writhed til I got myself off.

And then my tits exploded with pain. And he had me kneel up and put my hands behind my head while he watched me sweat and cry with the pain. His pain.

And then he played with the clamps, taking the first one off slowly, oh so slowly, his fingers gently moving the ring down and spreading the arms of the clamps and peeling them off my nipple as I sobbed. The second one was fast, rough, all one motion an explosion of pain.

Which was worse he asked me.

Both.

Which I guess is why it's his favorite thing?

Sadist

He's a sadist. That's something I really like actually. I don't know why. Maybe because ... it means he's a total bad-ass.

Or something.

His sadism used to scare me, when I first met him. I think it seemed like something weird and scary. Maybe uncontrolled. Maybe he was going to go on a rampage and tie me up and chainsaw me or worse.

Now I think I see it almost entirely as an extension of his dominance. Which is to say that he likes hurting me, because in our relationship he can do it and I have to let him.

I think he loves hurting me, just because he gets to. It's power, the power of knowing that I submit to the pain because it's a way of submitting to his dominance.

Maybe I'm wrong. This isn't something that he's actually said to me, but I'm always trying to see inside his head. Especially when he's hurting me.

Especially when I'm trying to distract myself from the pain.

Breakfast Rules

We had a another fight this week. Yeah I know, fight after fight after fight.

This one started off stupidly.

He likes eggs for breakfast. Eggs, bacon, toast. Jam. Has to be the right jam, strawberry or maybe raspberry. Not orange. Not peanut butter. Coffee with cream and sugar.

I know he likes what he likes. Cooked properly. By me. No substitutes.

Occasionally he changes what he wants. Cereal. Pancakes. And we still better have what he wants.

Monday we ran out of eggs. And jam. I knew we were out of eggs. I didn't realize about the jam.

I knew but I had forgotten and then I was tired and I didn't go shopping. Not a big deal right?

But it was. Is. He wakes up cranky and he wants what he wants. His perfect breakfast. If I could have persuaded him to have pancakes that would have been awesome. But it wasn't what he wanted. And when he realized, he was really a jerk about it.

Yes, he'd have pancakes, but omg he was being such a jerk. And I could tell he was going to be mad at me about it. And I want him pleased, not mad at me. 

So I got in my car and drove to the convenience store and bought eggs while he showered. Brought them home and was there even before he came downstairs.

And then he was fine. He came downstairs, I was frying the eggs, the bacon already done, making the toast, the coffee,I had cream.

He was pleased with me. He was a bit of a jerk about the fact that I had forgotten and had had to go out and get them, but he was pleased with me and just kind of ribbing me.

Can you hear the scary music?

I didn't have jam.

I hadn't realized.

So there was a big fight.

Not hitting. Nothing like that. But cold angry silence.

When he came home it was still cold.

After dinner he called me into the family room. Sat me down and gave me some new rules. About breakfast of all things.  Every morning there is to be bacon, eggs, brown toast, strawberry jam, coffee with cream and sugar.

Everything else is optional. These elements are not. If they aren't available I will be beaten. In a D/s way. Not because he got mad but because I disobeyed a rule.

Keep your fingers crossed for me. For me to remember, because now there's a new rule.

Rules are good, right? They help right?

Update

How is it now?

A bit better.

It's better when we have a little time together.

But really, he has lots of other priorities, and I have trouble with that.

I'm supposed to be sweet and submissive and accepting and I struggle with it.

I want to be his priority.

This will shock him when he reads it. He'll think, "but I thought we were great. Wtf does she want? She's so demanding."

And you know, I am. I expect great things.

I want to be the priority, not the last thing on the list.

I want to be the most important thing in his life.

And I'm not sure I can live with being the 22nd best.

So that's how we are. A bit better. Not openly fighting.

Badness

And now we're bad. Messed up.

Makes me sad. I've been crying all night.

Why?

Because reasons.

Is he sad? I don't know. Probably relieved that he could walk away and I'm not harping at him at the moment.

We've been so good.

And now we aren't.