The Inner Workings of A Serial Submissive

😂😂😂….and I love the comments!

Daddy and I were talking in the truck as we drove around and just spent some uninterrupted time together.   No kids, no dogs, no phones.   We never run out of things to talk about and tonight’s conversation did not disappoint.  

I can’t recall how we ended up on the topic of facials, but we did.  Daddy said that a porn star named Peter North was the king of facials.  I had never heard of the man.  Daddy told me to pull my phone out of my pocket and look him up.   All I can say is…..wow!   

That got Daddy to voice his wonder if it was real or if Peter used a “shooter” to make his loads look bigger.  Again, nothing that I had ever heard of, so off down another silly rabbit hole we went! 

Right before we hopped out of the truck, Daddy said that it was a waste that every girl in every video spit and didn’t swallow.  I turned and smiled and agreed…..what a waste.    😁

Thank you for the fun challenge Satindragon!

https://thecage.co/blog/userblog.php?blog_id=34508&postid=89764

I have been banned from any more home improvement for the time being.  I was tasked with finding a way to keep myself productive and entertained without tearing anything down, ripping anything up, nailing anything, or moving any furniture.   

I love to read, but there is only so much I can do in a weekend. I am really out of glass for the most part, so my glasswork is on hold.   BUT I found something that just might keep me occupied!

PAINT BY NUMBERS!!!! 

I got three pictures and each is supposed to take up to 12 hours. I got two abstracts and one portrait.   I’m excited to start.   Wish me luck!

I do love music and challenges.  My songs are about one of the big things in D/s…..control

This song was from my mother’s favorite movie.  She hummed and sang it all of the time.  It has long since become one of my favorites since it reminds me of her and when she was happy.

thank you SnowMinx for the challenge!

It was a quick call to You, as I pulled out of the hospital parking lot.  You quietly tell me to be careful getting home and that You love me. You text those exact words every day to me and I love it.  They make me feel cared for and today I really need them.

I can’t help but replay the whole scene over and over. We did everything right!  We were ready for any complications. Nothing we did saved my patient in the end.   No one dies in the surgery room, it’s too much red tape for hospitals.  I sat on my patient’s cart and did chest compressions on his lifeless body all the way down the hall to the recovery room, where he was technically pronounced dead.  

I am physically and emotionally drained.  I am numb for now, but that usually doesn’t last long and I want to be home when it ends. When I walk into the house, You envelop me in your arms and I breathe you in.  Tears well and I need to be alone for a bit.  You always know what I need and tell me that there is a hot bath waiting for me, before I can say anything.

The water is cold when I get out of the tub. I have sat there way longer than I meant to.  I can smell pizza even before I open the bathroom door.  There, on our bed, You have made a small picnic of pizza and wine and gummy bears.  You don’t expect me to talk, You just sit with me and eat.  We watch mindless tv and I am calm.   

You tell me that you have a little something for me, as You clean up our feast. You pull the covers back and tuck me in and hand me a new stuffed puppy.  He is fuzzy and adorable.  You tell me that he is for me to sleep with and that he keeps bad dreams away. 

I am going to name him Love because that is what he is.  He is my Daddy’s love for me.

You ground me and bring calm to me.   You nurture and guide me. You allow me to dig in and  make my home with you. You are my constant, my rock, and my roots

You give me room to move and soar. You inspire and motivate me to achieve my dreams.  You prod and nudge when it’s needed, despite my growl of irritation. You are my thrill, my excitement, and my wings.

Ass up in the air, face down on the bed, Daddy behind me with His hands on my hips.   The feeling is oh so good…..until suddenly it isn’t!

I had plugged my wand into the charging cord that is attached to my alarm clock.  That spot is usually reserved for my phone, but I wanted the toy close by.  I had unplugged my wand at the beginning of our play session and it had quickly been forgotten when Daddy began using His fingers and tongue.  

In my haste to unplug my buzzy friend, I didn’t toss the charge cord off of the bed and in our passion, didn’t see that I had rolled over onto the end of it.

With every thrust from Daddy, my collar was making contact with it! I had no idea what that zapping feeling was, but it certainly did not feel good. 

I immediately began calling my safe word and when Daddy stopped, I tried explaining what I was feeling. That was when He noticed the cord.  It’s white and blends in with the sheets.   He immediately checked my neck and kissed me. I am fine and have no marks or burns.  

Two lessons taken from this incident.
    1. Always be careful with power cords…always!
     2. I do not like electro play!

……And boy can I yell my safe word!   😳

I am a homebody through and through.   I have busted my ass to make my little house into a cozy and comfy home.  There is no place that I want to be….other than the ocean.  😁. It took today’s issues to make me really realize that my comfy, cushy home is really a gilded cage for my shy, introverted, and dare I say, antisocial self.

I had massive hail damage to my roof and it needed to be replaced.   On top of that, my water pipes to my tub became clogged and no water would come out. I CANNOT live without my bathtub!  My house and yard were invaded by roofers and workmen.  My private, safe space was ripped into and made vulnerable to people that I didn’t know or trust.

I could not relax or sit still. I was on edge all day and felt like I was going to cry. I was even afraid to change from my pjs to my clothes.  I had lived like this in the past for so many years, that I was accustomed to it.  I didn’t realize that it wasn’t normal or healthy.  I was exhausted and edgy and cranky all of the time.   

When I moved into this house almost 9 years ago, I began to find comfort and serenity in fixing it up and making it mine.   I poured myself into every room, and flower, and fabric. This became my safe space.  There is nothing wrong with a safe space…..we all need them. But when does a safe space become a prison?

I HATE to leave my house.   I HATE to shop or go do fun things.  I can’t even go out in my front yard for fear that some stranger will see me.  I have to psych myself up to go to the mailbox.  I am seeing this as a problem now.   I feel stifled and shut in, but I have done this to myself.  

Yes, I leave the house for my job and I am with the unknown public in a very up close and personal way. But I can easily hide behind my role as a nurse. I am not really seen.  No one asks how I am. No one asks about my personal life or likes.  They are completely centered on themselves, as they have every right to be.   I see people on their scariest day.  Surgery is a daunting prospect.   

I need my safe space to recoup and reclaim my calm.  Today was quite a shock as to just how much I depend on it.