Still Alive

Just a quick catch up because I miss it here, even though I have nothing of importance to say. :)

Things are going okay with the kids. Routines are settling in, the kids are mostly pretty cooperative. S-GD had a few difficult days at first, and I even messaged her mom and said I wasn’t sure it was going to work out. I was starting to feel like a jailer instead of a grandma, telling this poor child that she ‘couldn’t’ go home while she begged and cried for it, and seeming to constantly have to intervene about her being mean/rude to the other two kdis. That’s not my job, you know? That’s something her mommy and daddy should have to deal with- not me. It would be different if she WANTED to be here- like the other 2 who have so far anyway been perfectly happy to be here.

But, the very next day after I spoke with her mom, S-GD seemed to turn a corner and since then she’s been mostly fine and cooperative and in a much better emotional place. And I don’t mean to paint her in an all-negative light, either. She’s honestly very obedient, and very smart, and, for the last few days anyway, seems okay with being here and playing cooperatively with Babygirl.

I’m mostly surprised that bedtime has been so smooth as I’d expected that to be the worst. I must be wearing them out during the day though because they all 3 are down and out within 15 minutes of getting tucked in. At some point during the night, Babygirl sneaks into our bed, but she’s quiet about it and doesn’t wake anyone up, so that’s fine.

I really can’t complain too much (today, haha). I mean, it’s busy and the house is in a constant state of strewn toys and such, but I don’t care about that. I’m keeping up with the dishes and the laundry and the animals and the rest of my energy goes into kid care.

I’m trying to keep a little energy left over for Master but… lulz. I ain’t got none left.

Sorry M! :)

Oh- I have heard from B-man a few times since I last spoke of him here and he’s doing GREAT. I am no longer worried about him at all. Every time we talk he’s upbeat, energetic, yammers about everything he’s doing and tells me stories about the other guys there. He’s not having any trouble with the requirements or with the people or with his Drill Instructors. I would like to say that I knew he’d be fine but… heh… I cannot tell a lie. It’s good to know he is, though!

That’s about all I have today. Easter snuck right up on me and I have nothing ready for it so we’re off to the store today. Fun!

Thieves in the Night

Right, so. Somebody snuck into my house and stole every slave cell out of my body.

I am literally chewing on my tongue to keep from telling him where he can shove his various requests for service. There is not enough of me to go around.

I don’t know how any of you who have young children do this slave thing because honest-to-GOD, I cannot serve everybody and keep my sanity. One of us is going down, and I’ve just enough pent up frustration right now that I might could take him.

Being sick isn’t helping matters any. Thank you, girls, for the germ-share. ‘preciate it. Me and the baby are both wearing diapers because, you know, I’m old and the ol’ bladder isn’t what it used to be– heh, I should just erase that line because IT’S NOT FUCKING FUNNY! Ha!

I’m not really wearing diapers. But I am wearing a pad, lol.

And it’s still not funny. ~glare~

Oh. Happy Blogoversary to me!! Last week I passed the 9 year mark. 9 years and I still won’t shut up. Hee! :)


Just over 4,000 miles roundtrip, and nary a speck of vomit to be found. :D Thank you for the suggestions!

It’ll be a busy few days of settling in, unpacking, and trying to establish a workable routine to follow. Today is recovery day and I don’t care who is doing what as long as I don’t have to think. ~nods~

If anyone has any links to decent but easy-to-follow examples of schedules to copy and tweak, shoot them at me, plz. Organization is going to save my sanity I suspect.

Otherwise, yeah, babylove. I got some. :)

…Almost forgot

I have two more March questions. Sorry, guys! I meant to post this entry before the last one.

Was Scott ever concerned he might lose himself in his Big Bad Domly Baddass Bastard Self? If so, how did he get past it? If not, why not? What gave you both the strength to get past the “She’s my wife and mother of my children and grandmother to my sweet grandchildren, I would never dream of hurting her, she’s my oogy-googy sweetcakes” to “Take it you filthy cunt, you whore, yeah, you like it, bitch, how about that?”

Yes. He was. There was a time when he almost did. I remember writing a post eons ago about absolute power corrupting absolutely. How he got past it was (I think) some introspection on the kind of man he wanted to be. The kind of man he wanted to be proud of, the kind of owner he wanted me to be proud to have, and, in all brutal honesty, a few timid conversations about crossing the line.

Also, you know, he fell in love with me because I’m irresistible like that. :) Which takes us right into the second part of the question. I’m the oogy-googy sweetcakes now. Getting over that hump was pretty easy though. It was just a matter of him grokking that my love language IS “Take it you filthy cunt”. So, if indeed he had an interest in making me feel loved, how convenient for him that he had only to revert to his more primal instinct anyway.

There are times, though, when I feel that love gets in the way. Sometimes I think the pendulum has swung too far the other way and he gets a little too smooshy. At the same time though- I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I really wouldn’t. I mean, think about it; if my only complaint is that I’m loved too much by my man? I’ve got it pretty fucking good. I’d much rather have that to whine about than the opposite.

Hey Kaya,

BDSM is in part about tying people up, the “B” so you can do horrible things to them but when my lady and I play I never restrain her physically with rope or other means preferring to use what I call mental bondage.

I tell her what I expect from her ie put your hands together above your head and don’t move them and then I have my way with her. I like knowing that at any moment she could move her hands, she could push me away but she chooses not to and I also like knowing that she must be fighting an inner battle between doing as I’ve asked or what she wants which is to make me stop.

What is your view on physical verses mental bondage? Do you think you could keep your hands clasped together above your head or behind your back while being used by M or would the desire to push him away and the knowledge that your hands were free and you could actually do it be too much?

Master uses mental bondage very very frequently. I joke that it’s because he’s lazy and doesn’t want to get the rope or cuffs out, but in truth, the rope and cuffs makes ME lazy. Because I don’t have to struggle to obey him if I have the binds to struggle against instead.

He absolutely enjoys watching the struggle. Huge turn on for him. HUGE. My desire to please him is stronger than my instinct to protect myself, and that, if I can steal a phrase I just read on Fet, “makes his doodle happy”, lol.

He says he likes to watch my hands flutter, plus, if I do move a hand out of position he has a(nother) reason to hit me. So, win-win for him, haha.

Whereas for me, the appeal of bondage is that I get to let myself go and sink into the sensations rather than having to fight so hard to obey. You’d be astounded at the mental energy that goes into keeping ones hands in a certain position when something unpleasant is going on somewhere else.


And that, my friends, is the end of March questions. Of course you are always welcome to ask questions no matter what the date.


As long as I’m here, and because I’m procrastinating the one hundred things I still have to do before tomorrow, I’m gonna ramble on a bit. About kids and grandkids and memories and nothing kinky.

A couple of days ago, I was asked if I’d take my step-granddaughter while I also had the other two babygirls. Of course I said I would because this poor little girl gets all my sympathies.

For a quick catch up for those unfamiliar with the background: I’m going to be talking about Jes (my daughter and mother of my 2 granddaughters – Babygirl, age 4, and Babygirl 2.0, age 1 1/2) and her husband, my son in law (SIL). My SIL had another daughter before Jes, so I have a step-granddaughter who just turned 5.

Everyone is currently on fairly friendly terms; the step-granddaughter’s mother, my SIL, and Jes, who is now step-mom. There has been some turmoil in the past, and occasional flare ups now and then, but they do seem to be trying to get along.

Step-granddaughter (henceforth known as S-GD) is one of those kids that’s hard to enjoy, though. She’s exceptionally whiny, a tattle tale, and likes to be the lone voice of discord. Like, as soon as she realizes everyone else is in agreement on what to do, she’ll pipe up and disagree, to, I suspect, see if anyone will side with her. Affection and attention, to her, is a competition. Whoever gets the most is the one who is loved. Whoever gets the least, is unloved. At least, that’s my armchair psychology diagnosis.

And yet.. she’s 5. You know? She’s a little kid who has had a seriously unfair life so far. I can’t fault her for it, but I do have to find a way to deal with it. I get the idea, from different stories I have heard and from my interactions with S-GD, that she’s been expected to act very grown-up and is routinely put into grown-up situations.

She doesn’t have a lot of stability (none, in fact) nor does she seem to have a lot of love. Not that I think her own mother doesn’t love her, I’m sure she does, it’s just that her mom never seemed to grow up.

S-GD’s mom is something of a loose cannon. She can’t seem to hold a job or keep a place to live. She shuffles the kid around to whoever will babysit. Her own mother (which would be S-GD’s grandmother) isn’t a source of support, either. She’s an alcoholic who got at least one DUI charge while having S-GD in the car with her. That happened a year, maybe 2 ago. Can you imagine how terrifying that was for S-GD? She was with her grandma by herself when they got pulled over, she had to watch grandma get arrested, go to the police station, sit with CPS while they tried to locate her mom… I mean, that had to have been traumatic.

Now, her grandma (the alcoholic one) loves her with a passion that borders on obsessive. The problem with that, of course, is that she’s not safe for the little girl to be around so there have been many periods where she hasn’t been allowed to be with her. But S-GD doesn’t quite understand that, of course, all she knows is that sometimes she can see her grandma, sometimes she can’t. Sometimes she can go there and be loved and spoiled to the point of princess status, other times she’s told she’ll never see grandma again.

And then her daddy left her, too. At least in her 3 year old (at the time) mind he did. Her daddy joined the Army and was certainly trying to do the right thing, but all she knows is she used to see him on the weekends and then he was gone. Now she sees him once or twice a year.

She’s just had a lot to deal with her in short little life. She’s been abandoned, separated, homeless- she still talks about sleeping in mommy’s car- she’s lost all of her belongings, toys, clothes, etc., she’s been shuffled around from place to place, from babysitter to babysitter because mommy really prefers partying over parenting.

S-GD went to stay with Jes and SIL for awhile last year, if you remember. So mom could get back on her feet. And she kind of did, for awhile, but here we are again. Mommy got fired, mommy lost her apartment, and they are currently staying with the alcoholic grandma but that has to be a temporary situation. So she’s asked me to take S-GD, and she’s asking Jes and SIL to take her again, at least for the summer.

I’ve talked with Jes about them just taking custody and putting an end to this nonsense. She said she knows they will probably have to but that’s not an easy decision for them, either. They’re barely making it now with the 2 kids they have, they’d have to move to a bigger (more expensive) apartment because where they live currently has limitations on how many kids can share a bedroom, plus, you know another mouth to feed and body to clothe doesn’t come without added expense.

Also Jes said that she doesn’t think S-GD’s mom will willingly give her up because that child support she gets every month is pretty much her only income. They can’t afford a lawyer for a custody battle, at least not right now.

It just seems like everyone is stuck, or at least not doing anything, and it’s the kiddo who is getting a raw deal.

Which brings me back to that part about her being a hard kid to enjoy. Absolutely not her fault, in any way whatsoever, but there it is anyway.

We’re taking her, under the guise of S-GD getting to spend some time with her sisters. That’s not entirely an untruth but it’s not the full story, we all know it but we won’t say it.

I was just about S-GD’s age when my mom married my step-dad, and I suddenly had a step-grandmother who, to be blunt, didn’t like any of us step-kids. She was from the generation where divorce was frowned upon so she didn’t approve of the marriage to begin with.

There was definite favoritism right from the start. Her bio-grandkids could go for visits and overnights but we were never invited. She’d buy gifts for them, but not us. She always had “just enough” sticks of gum or pieces of candy for them but not us.

As a little girl of 6, the age I was when my mom remarried, those little slights stung an awful lot. It’s very very easy to make a small child feel unloved and unwanted. In fact, growing up with that treatment colored me so much that even though in later years she was better-ish, when my step-grandmother passed away last summer, even though she’d been “my” grandmother for 37 of my 43 years of life, I didn’t feel much of anything. I hadn’t ever bonded with her.

And now here I am with my own step-granddaughter, at a similar age I was, and I’m having to fight not doing that to her. It’s hard. It really is. My tendency is to favor Babygirl, and I’m not sure if that’s because I’m just closer to her or if it’s because she’s a more pleasant child than S-GD. Which sounds horrible to say but I’m trying to be truthful here.

I really go out of my way to make S-GD feel included and welcome. I am probably overly concerned about fairness when it comes to gifts and such. At Christmas time, S-GD got just as many presents from us as Babygirl did, and not just in number but price and quality. When I see her, which admittedly isn’t very often, I’m affectionate. I tell her I love her. Everyone gets hugs and kisses, everyone gets story time, everyone gets attention.

But she’s resentful of anyone but her getting attention. She pouts. She cries. She’s… I don’t want to say she’s angry or bitter, not at 5 years old, but she’s whatever the 5 year old version of an angry, bitter person is. I think there’s a resentment there that she doesn’t know how to deal with. She likes Babygirl, but she doesn’t. She seems to have a need to go out of her way to be obstinate and difficult, particularly to Babygirl. Not all the time, sometimes she’s just a 5 year old and she just wants to play, but other times, she is clearly trying to be “adult” and is… almost disdainful toward Babygirl. Toward playing and just enjoying herself and being a little kid, in general.

It makes me wonder if there hasn’t been sabotage from the other side. Like if she’s having too much fun with Babygirl, or too much fun in general, maybe she feels that’s a betrayal to her mom/grandma because of things they may have said to her, whether about Babygirl or what, I’m not sure. That’s just how it seems to me when she’s playing quite happily and something seems to suddenly enter her mind and she switches on a dime.

I just feel like there’s an added layer of stress, and I’m trying real hard not to direct that frustration at the 5 year old who is, not only blameless, but probably going to be very confused and upset on why she’s suddenly at my house. And to top it all off, her mom said she’s not telling her that she’s coming here until we show up to pick her up because “she wants it to be a surprise”. Yeah, she’ll be surprised. And terrified, probably.

It’s just..ugh. Somehow I’ve got to get on top of all of this. I’ve got to find a way to manage her behaviors before they manage me. I need… I don’t know what I need. A degree in child psychology, that’s what I need. Only can I have it in a week, please?

Anyway. I think I just needed to let it all out and now I can take a step back, breathe, and make a plan. I feel like all of the adults in her life have failed her so far, and I don’t want to add my name to that list. I may not fix her or be her savior but I certainly don’t need to be just another disappointment.

Now to convince myself that I can be anything but.


I got the whole debit card thing taken care of. Turned out I didn’t even need his pin number to activate it, just his social security number- which I know, so, easy peasy. It’s in the mail, no (more) drama, no fuss.

I get the idea some of you maybe misunderstood his need for the debit card. He didn’t need spending money or cash for fun. It’s not like they take weekend shopping trips or go anywhere. But he has to purchase his own uniforms and necessities while he’s there. While in days gone by the Army may have automatically deducted that money from the pay you earn from the Gov’ment, these days the paychecks are direct deposited into your own civilian bank account. Without his debit card to deduct the money he’s being charged for uniforms, then he has no uniforms.

Anyway. ~flaps hand~ It’s taken care of.

Master’s on his way home, he should be here in 5 hours or so. I finished about a fourth of what I needed to get done but I have a few more days so I’m good.

We ran out of propane because I didn’t want to wade through the waist deep snow to check the level in the tank. If Master would have been home and I pulled that, he’d probably have been pissed. But since he was far away and warm in his heated hotel room, he just laughed at me over the phone. Rude!

They haven’t delivered it yet though. It’s cold in here. I hope they deliver it before he gets home or we might be back to that pissed off bit I mentioned. O.O

Am’s new job is going great. Jes is finishing up her class and still hoping for Germany. B-man’s in basic. Man… I never thought we’d get here. Things always work out, though, don’t they?

I shouldn’t say that too loud. I seem to have a knack for ‘what can go wrong, will go wrong’. ;)

I’ll try and be around as much as I can but the next couple of weeks are going to be pretty busy. I’ll miss you!

Creeping Crud

The countdown to the road trip is on. If all goes according to plan, we’ll leave here next Friday and return the following weekend. I’ve got the animal care people ready to go, but I’ve become such a control freak about it that it’s going to bug me knowing it’s not getting done my way.

Of course Master got sent out of town yesterday, because doesn’t it always seem that when there is a lot to do, he leaves? lol. I’d think he planned it that way if his coworkers weren’t as equally bent out of shape about last minute work trips as he is. ;)

I had wanted to rearrange the bedroom furniture and to mostly clear out the one bedroom so that the girls could have it as a play room. When they were here the last time, having all the toys in the living room was a pain. I know they’ll still drag toys from one room to the other but I want that room open. Right now it’s cluttered with furniture. I can move all the little stuff myself but since it’s going downstairs and not just being dragged from one room to another, I can’t move the bigger stuff. I wish B-man was here. He was always so helpful with things like this.

I’m a furniture rearrange-er. It’s just what I do. Don’t judge. Only Master’s now got it to where I can’t rearrange the master bedroom at all, and I can’t move the tv/tv stand in the living room so all I can do is switch the couch and loveseat occasionally which is extremely unsatisfying. He’s very mean about my rearranging obsession.

Also, Am gave me her cold so now I feel like crapadoodle and I had a bunch of my own stuff I wanted to do before we left. I mean, I’ll still do it but now I’ll be grumpy about it, lol. Mostly I just want to shampoo all the carpets, which I always do before the girls are due for a visit because they spend so much time on the floor playing and what-not. We have pets, I know it gets filthy.

I have the BIGGEST case of buyer’s remorse over this carpet we had installed last year. I so wish we’d have put laminate throughout instead. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Even though I have a hard time with the laminate that we do have. How on earth do you keep it shiny? No matter what I use, it always looks cloudy and dull.

I need to get the car cleaned out and then loaded with all the stuff I’m taking to Jes, which is a lot of her bigger/heavier stuff that I haven’t been able to mail for the last year and a half. I need to childproof the house. I need to stock up on groceries.

I’ve got to finish puke-proofing the car seats. I’m going to completely cover them in plastic of some sort (garbage bags? picnic tablecloths?) and then get a couple of old towels and cut holes for the car seat straps to put on top of the plastic. That way it should be somewhat easy to clean up if necessary but still comfortable and safe. I’ve just got to figure out some way to cover the buckles because when they were here last I discovered that there is no easy or thorough way to get vomit out of car seat buckles.

I need to give both of the dogs a bath. Any tips on stinky dog syndrome? Gracie is the smelliest dog in the world. She’s prone to skin issues and flare ups of demodex so I’m thinking it’s more of a yeast issue or something than regular ol’ dog smell. After a bath she smells okay for a few days and then she’s right back to her stinky self again. It’s very different to how Trusty smells, he just smells like a dog.

Mostly I’m just sitting here avoiding all the things I have to do because I feel like someone poured concrete in my head. Ugh. Talking about what I need to do is ALMOST as useful as doing it. Except not.

We had the most amazing sex before he left yesterday. It was under the desk, which sometimes can be kind of ‘meh’ but this time wasn’t. And it wasn’t even anything painful or kinky or rough or anything. He was just enjoying himself with long, slow strokes that went on forever and I was under there in eye-rolling, purring ecstasy. Mmm. I was practically humping his leg when he left trying to entice him to go at it one more time.

But no. No sex for me!

Blergh. Maybe some dayquil and a nap are in order. I’ll get to the other stuff….. later.


It started when I got snippy with him about spoons.

Well, actually I need to back up a little farther. Master is particular about his utensils. Not so much the spot-free sort of picky but the size sort of picky. He doesn’t like using teaspoons or salad forks because in his big ol’ bear paws I imagine it feels a little like one of us normal-sized people using a baby spoon to try and eat.

So it’s tablespoons and dinner forks. That’s a pretty simple request, right? Right! I agree.

And it has been for, oh… about 10 years or so.

I mean, how many meals is that? Well, I don’t know but it’s a lot. That’s a lot of serving utensils. That’s a lot of getting it right. <---I want that put down on the record.

What is it that happens in the brain when you've done the same thing for a billion years (or, you know, 9 years) and then one day you do something different only you don't even realize you're doing something different? There must be a name for it, something more scientific (and more palatable) than "brain fart".

Anyway, so he's sitting down to eat his breakfast and all of sudden he's just holding his spoon up in the air and at first I'm like "Wut?" and then I see it's a teaspoon. Ooops.

No big deal, really. I take it and get him the one he wants and that's the end of it.


Skip ahead a few days and it's the morning after a get together we'd had and we'd partied late and I hadn't washed the dishes before collapsing into bed so when we got up for breakfast there were no clean tablespoons and probably I could have washed one, and probably I would have washed one in the spirit of being a good, pleasing slave however Master had been being a grumpy butthead and I wasn't so interested in being extra-pleasing.

I was kind of being snippy. Because he was being all kinds of snippy.

So when he picked up the spoon and saw it was a teaspoon, he didn't just hold it out to me like he had before (because snippy!), he tossed it noisily into the sink where it clattered and banged and furthered irritated my already snippy-in-return mental state and as he yanked open the drawer to serve himself the "proper" spoon (well, la di da!), I snipped "There aren't any clean ones or I'd have given you one. I *know* what kind of fucking spoon you like, Master.”

What? I said I was snippy, didn’t I?

He just kind of narrowed his eyes at me and then grumpily finished his grumpy breakfast with the stupid wrong spoon and took his grumpy-ass self to grumpy-ass work.

Skip forward another day or two and for reasons unknown to me, I gave him the wrong fucking spoon AGAIN. Brain fart? Subconscious self-sabotage? I have no idea. All I do know is I didn’t do it on purpose because when he held that stupid goddamn spoon up without saying a word, I just hung my head in fuck-me-running defeat.

MAYBE if I hadn’t JUST cocked off how I know what fucking spoon he likes in absolute disrespect he might not have been so… so… so *smug* about it.

I meekly got the right spoon and handed it to him and instead of just graciously accepting it and forgiving me for my mistake and my attitude, which I totally would have done had the roles been reversed ~cough~ he snatched my hand as I passed it to him, flipped it palm up and started thwacking it with the metal spoon.

Have you ever done that? Because, it’s surprisingly sting-ful.

He’s got my wrist in a death grip while I’m dancing in place and whimpering and owing and I don’t dare close my hand because if it stings on my palm imagine how much it would hurt cracking on my knuckles.

He finally stops, having still not said a word, and I frantically rub my reddened stinging palm against my pant leg and then he goes “Other one. Now.” and I really don’t want to.

It’s one thing when it comes out of nowhere but when you know exactly how much it’s going to hurt and you have to OFFER it to him? Well, that’s just cruel and unusual punishment. It’s like when he holds his fingers up in a pinching motion and says “Gimme your nipple.” because do. not. want. That shit’s gonna hurt, yo.

So I’m kind of jerkily sort-of-but-not-really offering my other hand to him while also frantically pleading my case/apologizing/promising to do better all at the same time, which I’m sure sounded like none of those things because whining.

But he’s unmoved, likely because of the aforementioned cocking off about the stupid spoon, and he grabs my other wrist in the same death grip and repeats the whacking while I repeat the dancing in place. Then he tosses my hand back at me and I try to rub the sting out.

Did I mention how much that stings? Try it sometime.

He spent the next few mornings deliberately holding up the spoon I gave him (the right spoon!) and giving me The Look™ over the tip of it before tapping himself lightly on the palm.

Yeahyeahyeah. I hear ya. I know what kind of spoon you like, Master.

No, really. I *know* what kind of spoon you like. O.O

Coming Down

The thing about anxiety attacks is that they only last for a little while. I’m better now. :D

I finally (FINALLY) got an address yesterday so I can send B-man some letters. I’ve got the first one ready to mail today. I’m trying to keep it ‘loving, but positive and encouraging’, just like the internet tells me I should.

Here’s a question, if anyone who has been there can answer it for me: I understand he’s got to purchase a few items while he’s there, but there’s going to be a delay in getting him his debit card. The reason for that is because he didn’t get his account set up until right before he was leaving, so his debit card is going to come here first and then I have to mail it on to him. So actually I have two questions: The first one is, if he’s unable to pay for his items when he needs them, what will they do, and, two, will he be able to make the phone call needed to activate his card or should I do that here before I mail it (which will delay him getting it even longer because until I can get in contact with him, I won’t know his pin number so that I can activate it)? I’m just not sure which way to go with it. Should I mail it as soon as I get it and let him tell his superiors he has to activate it or hold on to it until he can call or write again and leave him with no access to purchasing whatever it is he’s going to need to purchase?

I know I’m complicating it. What of it, huh? This is what I do. :P

I feel a little better prepared for the trip with the babies. I’ll get some children’s dramamine, I’ll try the wrist bands, and I have a supply of towels, wipes, and extra clothes. I’ve got some stuff packed for things to do at rest stops (bubbles, balloons, balls). I’ve got the car seats set up for easy clean up. We’re making the drive down as quickly as humanly possibly while it’s just the two of us so that we have extra time to make it home with plenty of time for frequent stops. I keep reminding myself that Master is very patient and very helpful and very concerned about his babygirls so it’ll all work out. And if, by the end of the first day it’s going terribly, we’ll stop for the day and try to drive at night while they sleep.

You see? He makes it all better and seem so easy. Then I feel like a dolt for overreacting. :)

I’ve got all of your suggestions, I’m putting the littlest one in the middle so she can see better out the front window because at the moment, she seems to have it the worst. Babygirl #1, as I said before, is fairly manageable with the dramamine. As long as I get it in her, she’ll want to watch a dvd (which I know isn’t the best, but she’s mostly old enough to manage on her own). She already knows if she starts to feel sick, she has to shut it off, put her window down and think about taking a nap. It’s the littler one who, at 18 months, can’t even warn us that she’s about to urp other than, you know, projecting it across the car lol.

I’m really just hoping she’ll sleep a lot. Like.. A LOT. I remember Babygirl #1 having it real bad at that same age, too. Luckily for her, we just didn’t have to go anywhere too often back then. And I know Jes had it, too, as a child, but not nearly as bad as her kiddos seem to have it. At least I don’t remember ever having any baby vomit to clean up in the car. Hers seemed to get worse as she got older, and she was easily manageable just by keeping her either in the front seat or in the middle of the back seat. Though, back when she was a little girl, they didn’t even have the portable dvd players or Ipads or anything to make it worse. She knew she couldn’t read a book in the car, but otherwise she just looked out the window and managed okay. Of course, we were also too poor to take long road trips so it wasn’t a huge issue then, either.

Jes also has this stuff that she dabs behind her ears, some scented oil or something… anyway, she said it helps her with her motion sickness so I’ll try that, too. I mean, jesus, if they get sick after the medicine, the oil, the bands and the ginger, well, I’m just screwed!

There’s nothing to be done about the home repair that needs to happen. I can’t change the schedule. They’re going to do it when they’re between other jobs, as they have the time, because *technically* they don’t HAVE to fix it. They built the house to code and it passed inspection, that ends their legal obligation. It is only because they stand behind their work that they are repairing it, plus we were good renters when we were renting and we purchased the house from them. So I don’t feel like I can be particular about the when of it all considering they could refuse to do it at all and we’d be stuck shelling out the thousands of dollars needed to hire someone else to do it. That’s just something I’m going to have to deal with, and then pray like hell that M doesn’t have to travel during that time. And also pray that they don’t find any other larger problems while they’re fixing it. Because that would really suck. :(

There’s really not too much more going on here. Amber started a new job, she really likes it and is doing well at it, plus it’s something that has a little more substance to it than her previous job. She’ll get more hours, too. I think this, if it works out, will boost her up and get her back on the right track. So fingers crossed for her.

There is nothing kinky to report. It’s just been business as usual here. Thank you for the suggestions and feedback. It was very helpful and much appreciated!

Anxiety Girl


I’m having a mild anxiety attack over things I can’t do anything about.

I’m irritated with people who don’t answer or return phone calls in a timely manner, especially when I need something that is, to me, extremely important.

I’m irritated with the USPS and their unrealistic expectations for weather condition management, (which pretty much means that me and my snow shovel vs the street snowplow is rather an uneven playing field) so if they can’t get to my mailbox, fine, I get that because you know what? I can’t fucking get to it, either. So give me some OTHER way to get my mail, fuckers. I might actually have this one figured out.

Because there are VERY IMPORTANT THINGS that I need in my mail right now.

I’m stressed out over the military and their incommunicado stance. Because fuck you, that’s why. I want to talk to my kid.

I’m pissed off at myself and some stupid-ass bit of irresponsibility that has delayed a stupid-ass important paper by a few weeks.

I had a huge argument with Am yesterday over entitlement. And vehicles. And being 21 and irresponsible. And i swear to god if she asks me to do her laundry one more time I’m gonna blow a gasket. I never do it, I refuse to do it, she knows this, and it’s become this point of contention now. And I also swear to god if she plays the helpless-me card again I’m gonna punch walls.

I’m tired of feeling defensive all the time or thinking I have to be because if I’m not- well probably nothing will happen but I can’t seem to QUIT, which pisses me off because if said person would stop ATTACKING, I could stop DEFENDING. Though if the other people would stop being so deserving of being attacked, I could still stop defending and why do I feel the need to play the middleman so often when I hate it SO FUCKING MUCH! Argh!

I’m overly stressed out about the upcoming road trip and how much it’s going to cost.

I’m overly stressed that BOTH of the babygirls get car sick, so that’s loads of fun to look forward to.

The reasons we chose not to fly when we planned the trip escape me now (because driving was going to be so much fun?!?!) but now that the trip is so close it’s more expensive to book plane tickets – and what the fuck were we thinking? Seriously.

Also, car sick. Did you hear that part? Not a-little-queasy car sick but projectile-vomit car sick. Wrapping-the-car-seat-in-a-garbage-bag car sick. No dvd’s, no books, no nothing to fill the endless 30+ hours of driving car sick. Just like their mother. Which I knew when I planned this trip. Because I? Am a fucking idiot.

(So if anyone has any tips for traveling with kids who suffer from motion sickness, become my new best friend. Please. Babygirl #1 does fairly well on children’s dramamine, but I don’t think Version 2.0 is old enough to take that yet. Has anyone tried the anti-nausea suckers? The wrist bands? Benadryl? Anyone want to ride along and be the designated puke-bucket-holder in the back seat?)

Let’s see. What else is making my list of suck today.

Oh. Yeah. That destroyed, water-damaged wall in the lower level? The one that couldn’t be fixed until spring because they have to literally tear out the back of the house? Right, that one. Well.. I figure spring will be sometime around mid to late April, which is right in the middle of me having the babygirls here and Master will be out of town for a few weeks. Isn’t that awesome?

I am preemptively stressing out about that because I already know that they’re going to come here and they’re going to say gee, we can’t do anything until you move/fix/change this, this and this, oh and now that we’ve torn down half your house, here’s what else we found wrong and we can’t finish it now. Because of reasons.

Because that ALWAYS happens when you start doing home repair. ALWAYS. And I’ll be here alone with 2 little kids and won’t be able to do anything. With a giant hole in the wall that they’ll tape up with plastic and say See ya!

I woke up last night at 3:30 in the morning, couldn’t shut my head off long enough to fall back to sleep so I got up without asking, without waking him up, because I knew he’d say no and I just needed some space to breathe. So I sat on the couch stewing until he came looking for me at about 5:30. He made me go back to bed and I sat there and stewed until 6. It is now 10:30 and I’m still stewing.

I don’t think he’s mad at me for getting up but I think he’s had enough of the complaining about things that can’t be helped. Which is probably why he isn’t mad that I got up because at least I wasn’t complaining. Well, not to him. You guys, though? Fair game, y’all.

He’s very laid back and I am not. He’s very “it is what it is” and I am not. He’s very “what will be will be” and I just want to kick him.

Apparently, anxiety makes me violent.


I’m a little stressed out today. That is all.

~sad face~

I just got to talk to B-man for the first time since he left. It was a short convo, just a few minutes.

He was crying- or at least trying real hard not to- the whole time. And then of course so was I.

Someone tell me that’s just because he was so happy to hear my voice and not because he’s miserable. Because this is killing me pretty hard.

Tortellini Day isn’t even a thing.

We were at the store last night getting a few things I needed to make the tortellini he wants for dinner today. Part way through getting the ingredients, I said “Hey! Tomorrow is Steak-n-Blowjob Day. Should I put all this back and get steak instead?”

“No,” he said, clearly disinterested. “I want the tortellini.”

“You’re turning down Steak-n-Blowjob Day?” I asked, dumbfounded. “In some cultures, they’d take your Man-Card for that.”

“Bitch, in my culture every day is Steak-n-Blowjob Day if I want it. Ain’t that right? And maybe we’ll have Tortellini Day and after you give me the blow job I’ll fuck your ass. How’s that for cultured?”

Oh. Well, I guess if you put it that way you can keep your stupid Man-Card then.

PMS: Putting (up with) Master’s Shit

After the fourth or fifth time that the blanket was yanked off of me because of him fucking around shifting around in bed, I started to fantasize about rolling over and punching him right in the face.

It then occurred to me that I might have pms.

Much to my dismay, having a hysterectomy only solved the shitstorm of blood I was expelling, but has done very little for the shitstorm of hormones.

PMS and slavery don’t always mix. Given that M tends to be a little (okay, a LOT) more on the relaxed side of things than some other Owners, I know that I’m pretty lucky, but even so, it’s become a monthly battle of trying to keep my skin intact for these few days a month.

Turns out that going all Hulk-smash on your dom because he asks for another beer is rarely the epitome of graceful submission.


1. What is the most scared you have ever been of him? What caused it and how did you work through it?

This was a hard one! Fear is a fickle thing. I don’t *really* fear him, in that I know he’s not going to kill me or anything.

I asked him this question and he gave me two times that he thought I was the most afraid of him. It’s funny though because neither of the two even made my list, lol. One was a punishment early on in our relationship that, indeed, was exceptionally painful and by the end of it I was a shaking, sobbing, snotty, contrite mess of flesh. The other time was the gun scene because, yeah, I don’t care who you are but when you’ve been raised around guns and preached at to never point it at someone and you hear so many stories about accidental shootings and then someone shoves a gun INTO your body and repeatedly pulls the trigger– okay so maybe that one DOES make my list, after all.

He’s a sick fucker, idn’t he? Damn.

Anytime that he’s severed the connection with me and is deep inside of his own self. When he’s tapped into sadism and has stopped viewing me as a person (or seems to), when I feel like meat and I know it (whatever painful thing it may be) is going to go on and on no matter what I do or say or how much I cry until he’s exhausted himself. That’s some scary shit. But heady, oh so heady, and kind of amazing.

That time he came home from work because of the phone? When he was so angry. That was scary. Anytime I’ve truly made him angry he’s scary. He’s a big man with a big voice and he has no “rules” about me, you know? It’s carte blanche on domestic violence if he chooses to and I never know if/when he might choose that so… I try not to make him truly angry because of reasons.

When I thought for sure he was going to throw in the towel on me and my kids when Jes got pregnant at 16.

When he really for reals made me realize that ‘his way or the highway’ was going to be the bottom line, that nothing was going to mean more to him than my obedience and my submission.

Aside from the fear of pain, which is real but not overwhelming (because of the no-dead thing), the other fear was caused by feeling insecure. Insecure of my place, my role, my worth, my future in his life. The sacrifices I was making to be his– and all of that fear was addressed by him doing and saying the things that I needed to feel secure.

That’s probably a really lame answer. :(

2. Are there any fantasies/wants/desires that he has yet to fulfill for you? If so, what are they?

Don’t laugh but he doesn’t objectify me enough. He’s not strict enough, either. Hmmph.

3. What is the hardest part of being a slave or property to you?

Doing it his way when obviously I know what I want and how I want it and if he’d just read the cue cards we’d get along a lot better. O.O

4. What is the best part of being a slave or property to you?

Getting to be my authentic self. When we’re in places where we have to tone things down (visiting my parents) or when the kids are here and we have to watch what we say, I feel so stifled and so fake. I’m putting on a show, or so it feels. When it’s just him and I, or when we’re with people who know us, it’s so easy to just be. I love it.

5. How do you really feel about the impending branding?

Branding wut? There is no impending branding. Tra la la! Shusha you mouf. ~runs away~

Funky Town

Master got his funk on lately and he’s been rocking my world.

I’d put it all into words but… sometimes the well runs dry, you know what I mean?

But that’s okay! Because I have video and from the video I have a few snapshots, and, as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words.

Video Clip: Cut

Video Clip: Just Breathe


Stills taken from the vids:

Snapshot 1 (3-11-2014 12-13 PM)

Snapshot 2 (3-11-2014 12-14 PM)

Snapshot 3 (3-11-2014 12-18 PM)

Snapshot 4 (3-11-2014 12-38 PM)

Snapshot 5 (3-11-2014 12-39 PM)

This next one, though. My tormentor is my savior.



Question: You wrote, “We dabbled in things, he made up rules, kept some and rejected others if he wasn’t pleased with the execution- even if I really liked them (pout).” I’m curious now: what were some of the rules you liked that he rejected?

A few that come to mind:

1. Being chained and locked into the bed at night.
2. Asking permission to get into bed.
3. Asking him if he wanted a blow job before I went to bed and before we got up in the morning.
4. There was a rule about having to wear nipple clamps every time we had sex.
5. I used to have to set things up for his shower (washcloth, soap, etc.) and stand by to wash his back, and then dry him off when he was done.

I could think of a lot more if I sat here long enough. ~grumble~

Do you really think he would put you out, cut you off and leave you with nothing if you chose not to obey?

His support would be limited. He probably wouldn’t kick me out on the street but he’d not do a whole lot to keep me happy and secure. Why would he?

I mean, the end of a relationship is the end of a relationship. If I’ve chosen to leave, his obligation to take care of me is over.

If you were to decide you couldn’t do m/s any longer would that really be the end for you guys?

If *I* decided it? Yes, that’s a good possibility. He wants a slave, not a wife.

That’s not to say he wouldn’t first try other things, like taking on another slave to fill that role and trying it out with me as… I don’t know what I’d be. He’d still not relate to me as an equal so I’m not sure.

And that’s also not the same thing as me being unable to fill the slave role through illness or injury. On that front, he has too much integrity to kick me to the curb. But he still might take on another for that purpose.

I mean, he really for real wants a slave. Obedience/submission is really for real a requirement of being his.

March is Q&A month. If you have a question, leave it in the comments here, you can ask anonymously or not, or you can email me at kaya (at) or you can message me on Fetlife.


Snapshot 1 (3-9-2014 5-11 PM)

Short clip of his urinal in use

What Master said about his urinal: I still have to work the kinks out of this…… the funnel isn’t draining fast enough to empty my bladder into its ass so it can dispose of the piss for me…. it’s not a fully functioning urinal yet… but soon.

I’ve been tasked with perfecting the funnel drainage system.

How much of a mindfuck is it to want to make this work exactly as he wants it to work because I’m so desperate to please him even though making it work exactly as he wants it to work is going to be so very unpleasant for me in the long run?

So, so fucked.


What is the relationship between your kids and M like?

Now, it’s pretty darn good. The advantage of having kids who have stepped out into the real world, who have had kids of their own, who understand finances and responsibility on a much more tangible level is having kids who have a different outlook on the sacrifices parents have made.

I had the same realization about my step-dad when I was a young adult, which was an entirely different realization than what I had about my mother. It is different to know that someone did these things for you because they chose to and not because they were obligated to.

I guess the best way to sum up this question is to say that on Christmas/his birthday/Father’s Day, it’s Master that they recognize and not their bio-dad.

Do you feel that living a m/s lifestyle has affected your position as a mom?

Oh gosh, yes. The singular point of contention between M and I has been over kid-related stuff.

In some ways he’s made me better, in other ways he was way off track. He not only offered me a different perspective on “normal”, he, because of the M/s, was able to force me to adopt it. Someone here in the comments, a long LONG time ago, said something to the effect of me not knowing what “normal” was (in regards to parenting, etc.) because my own childhood was far from it. Master’s childhood was pretty stereotypical. That’s something I hadn’t really considered before (you see? You people have been good for me!) and once I really thought about that, it made his viewpoint a lot easier to swallow.

At the same time, though, he had a tendency to dismiss the particulars of what my kids had been through, what made them the way they were. He – at times- expected (expects, maybe still) a little more than what they were equipped to accomplish. Holding my kids up in comparison to other kids who had a much more privileged (and yes, normal) upbringing and then finding them lacking was unfair.

For example, were there things that you wanted to do for them or wanted them to have that you were unable to due to your slave status?

Honestly, they’ve gotten more because of Master than I likely ever would have been able to offer them on my own, and for that I’m grateful. He really is very generous to them.

Having said that, however, it’s still his choosing of the when/where/what is given to them and it’s not always what I want or would like to do.

My question for you – do you have (or ever need) any strategies for getting on board with whatever it is he wants if your head isn’t in the best place when he wants whatever it is?

I do, but it’s probably not going to ever be printed in ‘Slave Training 101: Ethical Methods’ (if such a book exists, haha).

The method is this: I have nothing. No money, no source of money, no house, no car, and no confidence that I’d make it without him. So when I’m not on board, the ‘threat’, if I dare call it that (because it’s never said that way. It’s never that blatant. It’s “obey or leave”, it’s “my way or the highway”, but somehow he makes that not a threat… which makes no sense now. Nevermind.)

Anyway. When I’m not on board or struggling to get my head in the game, I imagine being homeless and penniless and useless and having nothing and — it works.

And honestly, that all sounds a lot uglier than it really is. The fact is I don’t want to go anywhere anyway so it’s not like I’m miserable and trapped. I am trapped, in much the same way that a 1940′s housewife was ‘trapped’ but I’m quite happy to be.

The fact is I *want* to be on board with what he wants. I want to be obedient and pleasing so if the above gives me the added oomf I need to get there, then it’s just as valid a method as any other. Even I know I’m not truly trapped because while he can make ‘escape’ unpleasant, there are routes he’ll never be able to take away. I could always show up on my parent’s doorstep and they’d take me in without question for as long as they’re alive- but that of course brings its own set of unpleasant circumstances that I’d rather avoid.

Being older than you two and with the passing of my parents this year, I have been concerned how my wife would cope with MY demise. The downside of D/s is a possible reduction of the ability of the s to cope if the D is suddenly removed. I am not so much taking of the grief and loss which is unavoidable but the picking up the pieces and continuing on without the management skills of the D – Financial planning, budgeting, estate planning, even things like house maintenance or hiring a contractor, all those things that I make the decisions on that she no longer even thinks about?
Have you guys ever discussed Life after D/s? Any ideas on how other have handled this, other than the obvious family support by sons or daughters?

How funny that these questions came in back to back. :)

I have not been freed of the burden of planning/budgeting/maintenance. I have been controlled and dictated to, but 99% of that stuff is delegated to me to handle. I make all the phone calls, all the appointments, talk with all the service people, the insurance guy, the banks. I do our taxes every year. I file the claims, pay the bills, argue the bottom line. I make it happen so that all he has to do is approve or disapprove, and sign on the dotted line. I am his secretary, that is one of my uses. Most of the time, what he chooses to do is also what I would choose to do, so I’m surprisingly confident in my management skills- at least of managing the “stuff”

All I can say about finances is that he tells me he’s insured to the eyeteeth and I don’t need to worry should that happen. I won’t be left homeless and penniless if something happens to him, but only if I make myself unworthy of being his.

Does that seem incredibly at odds with my previous answer? It probably is.

If it’s too personal, just ignore my questions. You mentioned that your oldest brother is in jail, what happened with the other four criminals? Are you in contact with them? And are your parents still in contact with them?

There weren’t four other criminals, there were three. The fourth was taken advantage of as much as I was in the beginning and managed to extricate himself very early on. Of the remaining three, I am sort-of in contact with one of them, in that he makes the very occasional appearance at family functions, but I’m so rarely at these functions myself, and he so rarely shows himself, that we avoid each other pretty successfully. I haven’t laid eyes on him in several years, actually.

The other two I haven’t had contact with since… I don’t know. My late teens, early twenties. They both moved halfway across the country.

My parents are in contact with them, yes, but it’s limited. Not with the one who is in prison; they have zero contact with him. My parents view the others as victims of his, they believe them to have been coerced, forced, trained, whatever, and have a much more sympathetic approach toward them than I do.

I have long since stopped finding that to be hurtful. They don’t force it on me or otherwise try and direct how I should feel so… it is what it is. When the two who live far away come to visit, I don’t visit. I sometimes hear stories about them, that’s all.

My parents- my mom especially- carries a boatload of guilt over the whole thing. I don’t wish that on her. I don’t blame her. I don’t have ill feelings toward her. I know she did the best she could with the tools she had, just as all of us parents do, just as I did. Honestly, this all happened almost 30 years ago. I rarely think about it.

Sorry if you’ve already gone over this at some point but I had questions about your collar. Where did you get it? Do you wear it 24/7? Do you ever get looks/comments? Anything you don’t like about it? How long have you had it? Thanks for your time.

Master got the collar from Ring of Steel. I couldn’t recommend these guys more if I got paid for it (which I don’t!). The craftsmanship is amazing, the customer service is amazing. Seriously.

If by 24/7, you mean literally 24/7 and it never comes off EVAR for any reason at all, then no. I don’t. I had it off about 3 weeks ago, long enough to get my hair dyed to make sure no dye got on it. And it gets taken off if I go to visit my parents because my mom is rather hyper-sensitive to M’s controlling ways and she would blow a gasket to think I had something locked around my neck. We have nothing to prove by making my mother uncomfortable or worried so it comes off and it stays off until the visit is over. I have a couple of vanilla-friendly necklaces that Master has gotten me that replace the personal meaning of the collar for the duration.

Otherwise, yes, it’s on all the rest of the time. I sleep in it, I shower in it, I wear it out- to the store, to the doctor, to wherever. It is only taken off for very seldom and very specific occasions and then put back on when those occasions are over. I have a tan line from it, much like my wedding ring tan line. :)

I get looks but I’ve got this figured out. I get two sorts of looks from the vanilla folks: they either look at it strangely and I can tell they think I have bad taste in jewelry, or they look at it, say something like “that’s a pretty necklace” and ask me where I got it (My stock answer is: “The internet; Amazon maybe? I don’t know. My husband bought it for me.”) I’ve only ever had one stranger acknowledge exactly what it was and all he said was “I like your collar. I’ve never seen anyone wear one in real life. Where did you get it?” and I told him.

There’s not really anything I don’t like about it. It’s much more comfortable than it looks, most of the time I don’t even feel it. It’s very lightweight (my collar is the ‘stealth collar’ which is a lighter, thinner one). It doesn’t rub anywhere, it doesn’t pinch anywhere. Very occasionally I get that sensation of being strangled but that’s all psychological and has nothing to do with the collar itself. It passes. Eventually. Until the next time.

I’ve had this collar for… 5 or 6 years, I guess.

What happened to Leesa and Phrank? I always hoped to hear that the 4 of you met up again, told us about it, and filmed it. But, Her site is down. Are they OK?

Again, timely question. I was just talking to her the other day. I had come across the pictures from the time we did meet and said how much we’d like to meet up again. We will, if either of us are ever close to the other. :)

All I can say is that they are busy busy people and she isn’t kinky blogging anymore.

How did you get him or how did he grow more dominant?

Well.. there’s something to be said for first having the desire for it. There’s no making that happen if they just aren’t into it. So that “how did I *get* him to” is simple- I didn’t.

But how did he grow more dominant- now that I have an answer for. :)

I think, just as some of us slaves have to fight societal conditioning, so do they. Maybe even more so. Possibly even more so if it’s a male dom and a female sub. That goes against all the ‘don’t hit a girl’ stuff that they are preached at about, not to mention the notion that it’s bad or wrong to want what they want.

I was very proactive in those early years. I found pictures and videos of things I liked and I showed him, shared with him how hot and horny it made me to watch, told him how much I’d like to be that girl, reassured him when he’d ask questions like “you don’t think he’s a dick?”

I did things to myself in front of him. I was the one who first poked myself with a needle, who cut myself with a razor, who stuck a burning candle in my pussy. I bought the toys, I laid them out, I reiterated over and over that I wasn’t turned off, I wasn’t angry, I didn’t think less of him. I loved it, I wanted it, please Sir more more more, harder, do it again, and next time would you consider doing x,y,z.

I wasn’t thinking of it in terms of making him be more dominant, not at the time. It had that effect, though. I was merely doing what appealed to me, saying what I felt. I was new, too, so I was experimenting as much as he was. He very quickly disabused me of the notion that I was topping from the bottom by being proactive so I ran with it.

He gained confidence, he realized what he wanted to do wasn’t going to gross me out or scare me away. I wasn’t going to think badly of him (mostly, haha). He saw that other people were doing the same stuff, or far far worse stuff. We dabbled in things, he made up rules, kept some and rejected others if he wasn’t pleased with the execution- even if I really liked them (pout).

In my guidebook The Care and Feeding of Your Dominant (snerk), it says to gently lead them to water and then shove their head under until they give in. In other words, when he would act incredibly un-domly I would reply with “I don’t know. You’re the boss. You tell me.” or “Oh! You mean I get to decide that? Yay!” or “Well, as soon as you get your collar on and your butt plug in, I’ll let you know my answer.”

Which is only part hyperbole, really, and entirely tongue in cheek, because he’d been well trained to ask his girlfriend what she wanted/how she felt. Trained for over 30 years by his mother and his older sister to respect women, to care about women, to treat them properly. Just because I came along and tickled his dick doesn’t mean he was Insta-Dom. Neither was I an Insta-slave just because I wanted to be one. He guided me with the similar method of making me think about what I’d just said and how I’d said it. Was what I just said reflective of how I really felt (a slave) or reflective of how I thought I was supposed to respond (society).

He provided for me a safe place to grow into slavery, a place where I could make mistakes without the sky falling, a place where I wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed or harshly judged, and I did the same for him in return.


That brings me to the end of the questions, unless I have overlooked yours. If I did, it wasn’t intentional and do please point me to it. Thank you all so much for playing along. :)

March is Q&A month. If you have a question, leave it in the comments here, you can ask anonymously or not, or you can email me at kaya (at) or you can message me on Fetlife.

Dream a Little Dream

Last night I had a dream, and in the dream I was awakened by the covers being ripped off the bed and a woman’s face shoving between my legs, lapping and lapping…

…and then suddenly Master was there, too, standing behind the woman, fucking her, each thrust sending her face grinding into my cunt and her moans vibrating through my clit and I could see him back there, all hazy and fuzzy, his face so intense, so concentrated on pleasure, until I begged to come, please Sir, oh please…

…then the dream shifted to Master climbing up and fucking my still spasming cunt while the woman’s fingers danced over my too sensitive clit, her hand trapped between our bodies and her mouth, oh that warm wet mouth, tickling my nipples so sweetly…

…but then he was fucking her and it was my hand trapped between him and her, circling over her clit, and my mouth sucking her nipples and she made these pleasurable little mewing noises deep in her throat…

…and then those dream-voices were talking, sounding so far away, saying where should I come, you or her, you or her and answering on her, in her, so I can lick it..

…and then he was back on me, shoving my legs apart and thrusting with urgency and purpose, grunting as he came and pulling out to finish off over my pussy, hot sticky squirts and then her mouth right after it, sucking and licking off everything he’d just put there…

…and then I woke up…

….and it wasn’t a dream at all.



Seeing movement out of the corner of my eye, I instinctively ducked, cringed, squeaked and covered my face.

Then I looked up to see Master calmly trying to hand me the tv remote.

“Jesus,” he said. “Why are you so fucking jumpy?”

Uh, herpa derp? “Because I fucking live with you!”

“Oh, yeah. Hahahaha, sucks to be you.”

Yeah. Reeeaaalll funny, Mr. Comedian.

Har de har har.


How has slave-blogging and BDSM blogging changed over the years?

There are more of them, that’s for sure. Either more slaves are blogging or it’s just easier to find them because back when I was looking for blogs to read, before I’d even started one, they were hard to come by. And then when I could find one, and even when I first started writing (before I was “blogging”), it was a site specifically for bdsm and writing. It was called Section 12, and I have no idea what happened to it.

It seems less ‘scandalous’ to post the pictures than it used to. I think some of the paranoia about the internet has died down. There was this huge outcry of OMGIFYOUPUTYOURFACEONTHEINTERNETYOUWILLBESTALKEDANDKILLEDOMG!

I really think the introduction of Fetlife had a HUGE impact on blogging and picture posting.

Do you read any more recently-begun slave blogs, and can you recommend some?

That’s a timely question because just the other day I was cleaning out my blogroll (and sorry, if you hadn’t updated in the last 6 months you got deleted, no matter how much I love ya and wish for your return) and I was thinking then that I would ask here for some recommendations to new stuff.

The bad thing about Fetlife’s blogging function is that you really can’t link to it. I read a lot of new stuff on Fet.

So maybe we can both get some new links if we ask real nicely for someone to leave their link in the comment section? Purty please? :)

I have frequently wished that my Master would make it a rule that I have to ask before using the bathroom. I just think it is hot/humiliating. Did you ever think you wanted that rule, before he made it?

I did, yes. Sort of. In the vein of thinking that there was no such thing as having too much control, I wanted him to control ALL THE THINGS!

Hindsight is 20/20 as they say.

How far into your relationship did he decide he wanted that much control? I think you had said before that early on he said that was not on his agenda.

It’s difficult for me to pinpoint as it seemed he gradually took more and more. I do remember the specific conversation where he said he didn’t want “somebody asking me when they can take a piss” which was very very early on (within the first few weeks of meeting).

I would say… within the first year.

Did you ever ask him to add any particular rules? What were they, and were there some he said no to?

I ask for new rules all the time. ALL the time. I still want him to control ALL THE THINGS! lol, even though I don’t want to have to ask to pee.

Look, don’t ask me to make sense because I am not capable of that.

He generally says no to every request I make. I mean, he just keeps insisting on doing things his way. I don’t get it. ;)

Do you ever go back and read the things you have written?

Sometimes! Usually if I’m looking for something, I’ll get caught up in reading a few entries. Sometimes I’ll think, damn, you’re not bad at writing shit, other times I think, jesus christ you were a fucking idiot, lol.

Do you still sometimes fear that you guys are gonna go vanilla?

Not in the sense that I used to think in terms of black and white, no. I used to think it had to be always on or always off and I’ve relaxed a lot in that sense. I’m much better at coasting. The only time I really start to freak out over Vanilla-ville is if he lets go of the steering wheel. Which does happen. It happened not too awful long ago.

He doesn’t have to be standing over me with a whip 24 hours a day demanding submission, but if I grab the wheel (because of reasons) and he doesn’t grab it back… yeah, I still freak out.

Gods, do you ever age? You look exactly the same now as you did then!

Wut? Are you kidding? I’d be full gray if I didn’t dye my hair, my body aches, my knees crackle and my hands… oh my. My hands look old. I look at my hands and I see my mother.

When/how did you two get into Piss Play? Was it your fetish or his? Was there an adjustment period?
What is the appeal, for you? Honestly, its one of those things I have never jelled with.

Oh, that was alllllll on him. In that chat room I talked about before, where we chatted before I even met him, he had some chick in there using a nick that had his chatname plus “piss face whore” in it. So I guess I knew it was going to be part of it but it was not (still is not) my particular kink.

The fact that it’s not my kink and he does it anyway is what makes it my kink. It’s all about the force, baby.

I get a lot of flack about not swallowing it. I guess for a lot of people the appeal is having them drink their piss. That’s not his kink AT ALL. He doesn’t want me to swallow it, all neat like that. He wants it all over me, stinking and gross and disgusting so he can tell me how stinky and gross and disgusting I am.

Isn’t he nasty? He is. I know. ~beams~

Adjustment period, no. Not so much. That was there right from the beginning and hasn’t changed a bit.

Do you know what happened with Biddable/Slave among Drivers girl?

I see her on Fet frequently.

What’s something you like about yourself?

Everything. Seriously. I’m awesome. :P

Okay no, not really. Umm…

you knew I’d hate this question. ~glares~

I’m a good person. That is all.

How bad is the financial control? Do you have to say something like, “Master, can I have some money, please? I want to buy you some underpants.

Yes. Exactly like that. Only he then gets to decide if he wants or needs underpants and can tell me no, no matter how badly I want to buy him underpants.

I would love to know if you have any tips on keeping things spicy when there are little ones around 100% of the time. I have such a hard time swapping my mind from “Mommy mode” to “His plaything mode”. Any ideas? Obviously they do take naps/go to bed early but since we have no family nearby to let them stay with. It’s just hard for me to keep my head in the game and I find myself getting pissy with Him because, “I’m dealing with something right now.”

You know, I really wish I had something to give you but I don’t. In fact, as we’re about to have the grandkids here for a few weeks I’m already mourning the loss of spice that I know is coming. In fact, I’m a tad resentful about it if I’m going to be honest, even though I really really want to have my grandkids here. I also really really dislike these interruptions to our spice.

You’re probably doing all you can in those moments of naptime/early bedtime because that’s all you can do. And that bit about getting pissy because you’re dealing with something- I’m right there with you. I don’t even do this often (have little ones full time) but even during their visits when I’ve spent all day attending to (servicing, basically) other demanding people who genuinely cannot help themselves and then he comes in with his usual demands, I have a hard time not biting his head off.

“Get your own fucking water, I’m changing a diaper here” has been right. on. the. tip. of. my. tongue.

So.. unless knowing you aren’t alone in your plight is helpful, I got nothing. Sorry!

March is Q&A month. If you have a question, leave it in the comments here, you can ask anonymously or not, or you can email me at kaya (at) or you can message me on Fetlife.