Under His Hand

Blogging, Shmogging

I have had no blogging mojo lately. Zip, zero, zilch. I’m trying to wait it out, I know it ebbs and flows, but at what point do you cease being a blogger if you aren’t blogging?

I went to the party last weekend and it was lots and lots of fun. In part because I was (a very small) part of the putting together of said party so I felt more connected, also in part to it being held in a ‘public’ dungeon and not at someone’s home, and also-and mainly- due to there being a whole lot of people there that I know. And part of that has happened because I’m out there meeting people.

My party dress that Master picked out for me.


You can’t see it in the picture but my shoes have little handcuffs on them. These are the shoes.

The other thing that made this party better was that Master had arranged for a bit of play for me so I had something more fun to do than stand around. It really was a lot of fun. The top is very new, and while I’m used to playing much harder, I think what he did for his experience level was absolutely perfect.


Of course Master’s already offering to help him along and I’m all like “Noooo! Don’t ruin him!” hahaha.

It was kind of nice to not be in tears at the end of a session, tbh. ;)

Speaking of- Master comes home on Tuesday. I’ll be in tears by Wednesday.

Kinda looking forward to that as well.

I’ve been promised lots of pain, lots of fucking and sucking and anal ravaging.

Doesn’t he know just how to make a girl’s heart go pitter patter??


Party time!

Master let me change my hair color. He wasn’t even there to supervise. After the bedroom fiasco I didn’t think he’d ever let me do something like this on my own again lol. He said it’s hard for him to tell in photos/skype exactly what it looks like but he approves of what he sees so far.


Myself, I love it. I’m sure the upkeep will be difficult but my gray is coming in so fast these days that even trying to maintain brunette was becoming an every-few-week trip to the salon anyway. So why not at least like what I’m getting? :)

It’s party day! I’m leaving here in about 20 mins to help with set up. I sure wish Master was here, though. I could use a good beating, like woah.


Insert Catchy Title Here

I don’t understand how I am so busy when I have nothing to do. I have no job to go to, no kids to take care of, not even a Master to serve (in person, right now, physically) and yet, I’m so busy sometimes that I can’t even work in blogging. Weird.

It’s probably poor time management, tbh. Ha. :)

So the party I went to a few weeks back was great. I mean, it sucked in lots and lots of ways but the party itself was awesome. I really have to hand it to the kinky population of Houston for getting it right. The atmosphere is always good, play stations are always full and busy, there’s good food and happy people parading around in various sexy kink attire (or none at all, always a good choice, too).

I am simply a slow, slow friend maker. I don’t strike up conversations with people I don’t know, I just don’t. So I spent most of the night either clinging to the few people I do know or standing around (looking uncomfortable, probably lol). And, the worst part of it was that it kicked missing Master into such high gear that I really almost broke down into tears more than once. Not just that I missed him so keenly right then, but looking around at everything HE is (we are) missing because of this kind of work travel made me super sad.

And it shouldn’t. I know that. I should be grateful, and I *am*, that he does what he does and has me do what I do. I am trying not to focus on what we miss or what we can’t do, and instead trying to focus on what we get to do while he’s home.

However, I was in a bit of a funk after the party, feeling sorry for myself and wah wah wah. I’m glad I was going off to visit family because I needed the distraction and, to be honest, I needed the kind of love that only family gives you. After feeling alone and lonely, you know?

My visit was great. Other than getting sick the day after I arrived, being doped up on cold meds, losing my voice completely for two days, and not feeling better until the morning I had to leave, it was great lol. It really was though. I got to meet two great-nieces whom I hadn’t yet seen other than in pictures, and spent a lot of time with Am, who drove down from Michigan at the same time that I drove up to Illinois. Time with my parents is always a gift as they age and their health declines. And, too, I spent more time than I have in years with my sister.

It’s a shame to realize now that I’d have been really good friends with my sisters if we were closer in proximity. Not just distance because distance isn’t my only ‘block’. Slavery is. I really don’t let myself get close to people because I am not available to them.


Interesting family tidbit: My mom and I were talking about kids and grandkids and got on the subject of how girls dominate our family (the number of, not.. you know.. *dominate* as we tend to use it here, haha). So we counted. My mom had 4 girls and 2 boys. Her grandchildren number 10 girls, 5 boys. Her great-grandkids number 10 girls and just 2 boys, with one more boy on the way. There is a lot of pink at holidays. :D


Upcoming events.

I missed last weekend’s party. I was still at my parents enjoying them so with permission to stay longer than originally planned I was not home in time to attend.

There is one this weekend that I’m going to and I’m a little more involved in the set up and such with this one, which I’m hoping will alleviate a lot of the “wtf am I doing here, cry cry” business. I’ll still be lusting over play time and wishing he was there though. Wah.

Lastly– ‘member that contest I had and the prizes I said I was going to make? Yeeeeeeeah. Well, you know, I’m a horrible person who hasn’t done any of it yet. Like, do you still want them? Has the statute of limitations run out? Sorry!


All Aboard the Nope Train to Fuckthatville.

I’m supposed to make one of these.

I’m fresh out of ideas on how to do that, though.

~think think think~

Nope. Nothing in my noggin.

(I’m conveniently leaving out the number of times I’ve masturbated thinking about it though because that doesn’t gel with my woe-is-me martyr persona. Shhh. That’s our secret.)

Sorry, M! Can’t be done!

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.


Assholes and understanding

We’ve spent a fair amount of money in the last few weeks on our dog’s asshole. Literally, her asshole. A stubborn anal gland infection, in fact. Two vet visits, two different rounds of antibiotics, and several expressions.

It was at the vet, just this morning actually, as I signed another charge on Master’s credit card, ruefully shaking my head and contemplating the cost involved in keeping someone we love in tip top condition, in particular the asshole of all places, when I had a moment of clarity, of connection and understanding of Master’s thought processes…

….when he purchases me yet again another butt plug.




On the one hand you’ve got the guy who got mad at me once for getting a library card without asking first. This was way way back in the beginning but I remember it very vividly. I think the reason I remember it so well is because it may have been the first time he put the smack down on me for making a decision outside of the ‘kink factor’.

It’s not like he and I negotiated our way into M/s. He just took more and more control, in little baby bites. Like the frog who gets boiled alive.

I am the frog. Obvs.

So I’m used to-and comfortable with- boiling not making the decisions. Which means when I have to make a decision, it feels extremely *uncomfortable.*

It’s not like he has to walk around making decisions about me all day long. For the most part, he’s created this bubble I live in where 99% of the decisions have already been decided and I already know the answer and I flit about quite happily in my bubble.

Of that 1% of the time where I don’t already know the answer, 99% of those I just ask him. I get my answer and all’s well that ends well.

What does that leave? 1% of 1%? 0.0001? Don’t ask me to math. I can’t. Suffice it to say it leaves a scant amount of instances where I have to make a decision.

Today was one of those days. Master is completely out of contact, unless he contacts me, yet there I am standing in front of the mechanic who is waving a 600.00 price quote in my face asking ME what I want to do.

So on the one hand I have the library card incident. A decade old incident that flashes in my head every time I have one of these days. My gut reaction is to decline. That seems the safest bet, to do nothing until I know exactly what Master would do.

But on the other hand I have another directive, the one that said to get the car into the shop before I take off on my road trip to visit my mother. To get it checked out, find out what that new sound is that started coming out from under the hood a few days before he left.

So that’s that, right? I already had my directive.

Except what the mechanic “found” was nothing. No explanation for the sound, a sound that they couldn’t even hear apparently. That makes the directive null and void.

But the mechanic found these other things, these nonessential things that needed to be done that will make the car run better, and make my trip safer, even though none of them directly have anything to do with what I was there for. And these things, things that are mostly standard vehicle maintenance for a car with our mileage, these things that he’s talked about doing at “some point” in the future but hasn’t said to do it now.

Is the new, implied directive to make the car as sound as possible?

Or is it the same old library card directive? The one that went “Did you ASK if you could get a library card, cunt?

And do I pull money out of HIS savings account to cover the cost of this repair that he didn’t tell me to get? Or maybe I charge it on HIS credit card instead. And then maybe I hear something like cunt, maybe your financial privileges need to be cut off since you seem to think you can do what you want with my money.

So okay I *don’t* do the repair, and I drive to my mother’s house and then he asks me what was wrong with the car and I say, well nothing to do with that but here’s what the mechanic said to do instead but I didn’t do it and — cunt, did I TELL YOU to get the fucking car fixed and you what? Just decided NOT TO? Maybe we need to have some remedial lessons in obedience?

Is there time to wait and I can tell the mechanic I’ll get back to him and then hope that I hear from Master so I can clarify? Of course not! Because I’m leaving! I’m on a schedule that is revolving, not around me, but around other people. I’d already have to push back a day to let them do what they want to do to the car and that’s if they start right NOW.

This is what I’m thinking as I stand there, the mechanic clearing his throat and waiting rather uncomfortably for an answer: Library card/fix the car/library card/six hundred not-my-dollars/library card/fix the car/librar-

“Fix the car. Just.. yeah. Just fix it.” I swear I broke out into a cold sweat.

Now I wait, and navel-gaze, and worry and wonder. WWMD. What Would Master Do? What *Will* Master Do?

I mean, just when I think I know what the answer should be, something like a redecorated master bedroom comes along and fucks me up. -_-


Well, I’ve been afraid of changing ’cause I built my life around you…

It was decided that my sitting around the house, alone, bored, with too much time to obsess over all thinks kinky is an inconvenience to him.

Which sounds a lot harsher than intended.

So what to do with me while he’s away? Get a job? No. Unless it was a job that would match his schedule and give me a few weeks off every time he’s home because he’s still not going to give up what he wants- which is me at his beck and call when he’s home.

Working with the dog rescue group helped for awhile, and I loved doing it. But even that ate into too much of his time home, required too much of my time and energy, and put limits on things we could do or places we could go when he’s here. When you take in a dog or cat, you agree to attend adoption events on weekends. You also are ‘stuck’ with that animal until it gets adopted. It could be a week, it could be a year. It’s extremely difficult to find even temporary care for a foster, so going out of town is next to impossible when you foster. All of the other fosters are already overrun and depleted, and you can’t kennel a dog that isn’t yours because kennels require paperwork and proof of shots which 90% of animals up for adoption do not have.

Volunteering for that organization was great, but it showed me(him) how volunteering isn’t for me. I’m a sucker for feeling obligated, and organizations like that are in constant need of…everything. People, time, resources. I couldn’t be at home knowing that only one person was running an event because nobody else showed up. I can’t not buy food for an animal with an empty bowl. The guilt and sense of obligation eats me up. I’d be all “I’ll just go there for a bit and help and I’ll be back..” 6 hours later I’m coming home, tired and dirty and he’s been home alone all day.

Plus, the constant barrage of animals in need was eating me alive. I cannot read story after story, plea after plea of abused and neglected pets, or animals being put to sleep tomorrow unless someone will step up and foster. I have the utmost respect and admiration for people who do that, day in and day out, who give everything and then some to save one more. I can’t be that person.

So that’s been nixed, I’m no longer fostering or volunteering. Part of me is sad about it, part of me is relieved to be out from under the constant pressure of NEED.

Keeping me busy with chores and tasks is helpful, but there’s only so much mental stimulation that one can get out of housecleaning. Which, btw, is very very little.

Who fucking cares if the house is clean when nobody but me sees it? Ugh.


What I CAN do, and what is going to be beneficial to him when he’s here while also not placing unwanted obligations on my time outside of him is be a more involved part of the kinky community. Houston’s kinky community is HUGE and busy and it’s very easy to find something to do, to meet people who “get it”, if you just try.

I am overwhelmingly shy when I first meet people. I don’t talk too much and if I do talk I say stupid shit, I’m awkward and nervous, and have huge amounts of anxiety. Master on the other hand has “never met a stranger”, can talk to anyone about anything, is loud and gregarious and friendly- and he’s always been my social connection. He’s the one meeting people and making friends, I’m the ugly wallflower hiding behind his leg.

That’s a lot of pressure to put on someone. It’s also socially crippled me as I have no friends outside of him. (to clarify- I do have friends. Now. I would not have them had he not made it happen. I would not have reached out on my own. Now that I know them, I consider them friends.)

When he’s home, I have a social life. When he’s gone, it’s almost like I cease to exist. Or so it feels, and I get that that is entirely self-inflicted. Well.. not entirely because he is (was? might still be but not as much?) just as likely to not let me go do something even if I want to go do something.

There are people who might want to know me as something other than Master’s silent partner. Maybe they’ll decide they don’t like me anyway. Maybe not. It won’t be the first time I’ve heard something like “You’re not really any fun by yourself. Call me when Scott’s back in town and we’ll get together.” I am hugely affected by rejection (who isn’t?)

At any rate, he’s decided I need to be a more involved part of the community. Maybe I’ll make connections, find friends, be welcome. If so, then when he’s home and there are events to attend, we can go together and he won’t have to be my sole source of entertainment. Maybe he’ll want to do more if there’s less pressure to be my “only”.

So he left on Monday. I went to a munch on Wednesday. Then I hung out with kinky friends. Last night I hung out with kinky friends again. Today I’m going to another munch, and tonight I’m going to a kinky party. Next week, I’m going out of town to see my mom. When I get back, I’m pretty sure there’s another munch and party on that weekend. The weekend after that is another party.

I’m pretty conflicted about it all, to be honest. I’ve been his for so long I’m not sure who I am anymore. He always liked that. Preferred it, even. Wanted it, created it. Made me just an extension of him.



Road Trip Entertainment

We took an impromptu road trip last week, driving over to the Florida panhandle and spending a night on the beach in Destin (well, in a hotel on the beach). It was so. much. fun I can’t even tell you how much fun it was because it was THAT much fun.

Master gets bored on road trips so I get to be his entertainment.


We did entertain a few truckers who went by, but don’t worry, we’re very VERY mindful of other people and I cover up when a car passes.

Linky-link short video clip of Master being.. well, being Master.

On the way we stopped at an adult store and picked up a few new items. He got a collar and leash set, which is actually really pretty. This paddle, which is seriously no joke. It’s quite ouchy.

I got some new sexy clothes:


A few more items, too, and then we stopped at the hotel and he did a rather brutal fisting on me that had me in tears. Jesus, I think he was punching my internal organs out my throat. It hurt sooo bad.

He ain’t got no tiny hand, yo.


I still came, though, so naturally he uses that against me, berating me about how sick and twisted I am, how much I love it even though I’m crying and begging him to stop because it hurts and I can’t take it, and then I orgasm around his wrist hard enough that he said it hurt his hand (no sympathy. none. zero. zilch.) and then he jacks off all over me, my face and hair and tits and belly, and then turns out the light and tells me to go to sleep- with my cunt throbbing, my insides aching, and his semen drying all over me.

The next day I was walking funny. I told him it was a backwards birth, I was sore and tore.

And then I asked him if he’d do it again, maybe that night.

Yep, sick and twisted alright.

But then we were at the beach and it was uh-mazing and I forgot all about my sore cunt.




We saw two stingrays and a turtle in the water. And several schools of these tiny black fish that numbered in the million bajillions. You could see these huge dark patches right off the shore but when you got close to them, they were these tiny fish. I was just fascinated with it.

I don’t know how well it shows here, but can you see the shadowy area all along the edge? That’s all fish.


Anywho, we had to leave the beach but not before we’d decided that we’re definitely taking a vacation to the Bahamas or somewhere similar sometime soon. Not before Germany, but maybe next spring or something.

We then spent a few days visiting some of Master’s extended family. He has pretty strong family ties in the south and we’d never made it that far to see them so that was really nice. His sister just bought a place on a lake so we stayed there, relaxed, drank, visited. It was a really great time. And good for him, too. I enjoyed watching him enjoy himself. :)

All too soon it was time to go home, which meant another long drive where Master got bored and used me as a drum set. (Click for a link to another short video.)

We got home around 8pm-ish, and at 4am the next morning-yesterday morning, in fact- I was dropping him off at the airport for his trip back to work. He had a short stay this time, and thinks he’ll have a longer trip out, and that sucks but it is what it is. I’m already thinking about maybe making a quick drive back home. I might go as far as my parent’s house and then see if Am and B-man can come down that far so I can see them, too. Or keep driving up. Who knows.

We had a whirlwind of a trip home this time. We were busy, it seemed, the whole time. I’ll write more about that later, though. This one is long enough and the Texas sunshine is calling my name. :)



I wish I didn’t absorb his moods like the errant white shirt in a load of angry reds. Blergh.


Problem Solver

A conversation after reminding Master of my upcoming appointment with my hair dresser.

me: My hair has to be clean and dry when I go.

Him, disinterested: Mhm.

me: So I’m washing it and then I’m not putting any product in it.

Him, yawning: Mmkay.

me: Which means YOU can’t put any product in it, either.

Him, obviously confused: What?

me, holding up fingers and ticking off the list: No dunking, no pissing, no spitting, no jizzing. In my hair.

Him: ~looks a lot like a kid who just got told he can’t have a quarter for the gum ball machine~

me: :-)

Then his face brightened and he snatched me by the chin and jammed his fingers into my mouth, stretching my lips open.

Him: Then I guess what needs to happen is you better open up wider.

me: :-0

Him: Problem solved.