For years I have considered myself a masochist. I really got off on pain and could rocket into sub space with the endorphins pretty easily. If given a choice on how a play session went, I would always choose some form of pain to be involved.
These days I am noticing that I am wanting a softer touch and, dare I say, maybe a smidge of pampering. Add in some praise kink and I am a total melty, gooey sub. As I began to really take notice of this shift, I began to wonder WTF was wrong with me.
I felt that this deserved a moment of pause and reevaluation, so the notebook came out to put my messy thoughts down in black and white.
Am I getting burnt out with the lifestyle? No, I still love my journey in the lifestyle. I feel that I have truly learned how to be my authentic self and tapped into a way to express myself. I have been able to verbalize my emotions and not keep everything bottle up.
What motivates this shift? In the past I was focused on hitting that high and the way that the pain blocked out everything else. No stress or depression or past that I was running from. When I think about our current scenes, it’s the feeling of connection and mutual satisfaction that fuel my need.
What’s up with this praise kink? Humiliation felt taboo and thus was a turn on. Deep down I felt like I deserved it. As more praise was used and took the place of humiliation, the more I found myself striving to get more and more of it. I now truly believe that I am a “good girl”.
I’m not sure what my conclusion is with all of this, but I do know that I am shifting and changing. I guess it’s just another new path in my journey and I am going to go with it and see where it leads. I plan on enjoying this new phase and doing my best to learn more about myself.
I take my solace where I can when my need becomes too great to push aside. These implements of pleasure are mere imitations of what I really want. They scratch an itch, but never fully satisfy. The dark fantasy books attempt to divert my thoughts, but they only make me think of You when a particularly steamy passage is reminiscent of our scenes in the past.
Your hot breath on my neck as You lean down and tell me what a good girl I am for You. The slick of Your tongue as You taste every inch of me. The mementos that You leave on my skin with the nip of Your teeth. The animalistic rhythm that Your hips pound to as You fill me. Your hands as they hold, cradle, roam, and pin. The way that we become one, sweaty and breathless. The way You hold me as I fall asleep in Your arms, safe and loved.
I am waiting patiently for when we will be “us” again. Until then, I will make do with the toys and smut. But please know that they pale in comparison to You. 😘
Can you guess what’s for
breakfast?
Helpful tip of the day…
And I do! Multiple times throughout my work day. It never ceases to make me inwardly giggle every time that I HAVE to hit it. It’s the immature pervert in me, but I’m sure some of ya’ll can relate.
I always wonder if the person who put that tag on there was thinking about how it looks. Probably not.
If you’re lost in the world, I’ll come and get you
If you’re lost in yourself, I’ll come and get you
If you’re sick and unwell, I’ll come and get you
If I’m tired myself, I’ll come and get you
And sometimes I think; “well, who’s gonna get me?”
Then I come and get you
‘Cause you’re all I need
I don’t know who wrote this, but it completely covers all the feels right now.
One of my favorite Halloween traditions is to read spooky poems and short stories. Nothing gets the imagination working like a creepy, scary tale!
I came across a new genre of smutty literature when I was looking for something sweet and spooky to occupy my time while Daddy was in the hospital. Sentient smut. Yes, it’s really a thing!
This short, raunchy book had me giggling and made me look twice at the pumpkins on my porch! The puns were spot on and the corniness is over the top, but it was the perfect sticky treat and gourd fun to take my mind off of the present surroundings.
Is sentient smut for me? Probably not on a regular basis, but if you are looking for something weird and spooky for the fall season, give this a try! 🎃🫦🍭🥵
This is day #2 in the hospital with Daddy. We came to the ER Sunday night because He was so uncomfortable. They immediately did a scan of His abdomen and admitted Him. They removed 5.6 liters (11 pounds) of fluid from His belly and He feels so much better. There are still lots of IV meds and tests being run.
I have been here, by His side this whole time. I only left to go and get a shower and get His list of things He wanted from home. I have been able to be His help in all of this. It has allowed me feel useful and given me a purpose as a submissive. I have been able to pour out my love and need to serve Him. It makes my heart sing.
And let’s not forget the masochist side of me. The hospital recliner should be considered a torture device….just sayin’. I am stiff and sore from that damn thing! 😁
I don’t even know where to begin in all of this. Disbelief. Shock. Denial. Anger. Fear. Dread. One big mass of feelings that just keeps rolling and reversing and replaying. Each one multilayered on their own and balled up together, they are all consuming and suffocating.
Anger surfaced yesterday, white hot and roaring. I screamed the toxic thoughts that were slowly eating me alive by not uttering them. I couldn’t say them before because I know that He already has so much to deal with and I hate to add to His crushing burden. But His last bit of information threw me over the edge.
My Dom has a horrific disease called MASLD or Metabolic dysfunction-associated steatotic liver disease. This man, who might have a beer or two a week, is dying of cirrhosis of the liver! His is brought on by a family trait that used to be called “fatty liver”. He isn’t an alcoholic, or overweight, or diabetic. It is just bad luck.
We found it when He went to see a doctor to get a hernia fixed. This hernia is bad and desperately needs to be taken care of. His lab work looked off and the doctor did an ultrasound of his liver to confirm. We were shocked, as he didn’t have any symptoms or telltale signs. That quickly changed. Within a matter of weeks He has begun to suffer and show that this prognosis is, in fact, real.
I want to be strong and supportive for Him. He deserves that at the very least. I have kept my emotions at bay and only speak about my plans in keeping Him as healthy as we can. I am meal prepping everything He eats to change his diet. I have researched and purchased supplements that may help keep the scarring at bay and help the still functioning parts of the liver healthy.
Yesterday He told me that the surgery won’t be taking place any time soon. He was informed that his blood work is too out of whack and that he has a high probability of dying on the table because of it.
To say that I lost my shit would be putting it mildly. My whole illusion of “control” and “a plan of action” and “navigating” through all of this to get back to where we used to be, was shattered. It finally hit me that life as we know it will never be the same. Ever
In all of this we have begun to barely function as a couple, let alone a dynamic. Gone are those feelings of closeness and intimacy that only a Dom and sub can understand. We are on autopilot and merely surviving. My tantrum made me feel better momentarily, but I know that I need to get these feelings out in a healthier way. He doesn’t need a blow up every time I can’t take the pressure anymore. So I have started journaling again. Maybe getting it all down in black and white will alleviate some of it and help keep me sane.