Most recently mentioned by swan was the phrase “[bdsm] is not all about blow jobs and butt sex” (credited to Gabriel and kaylem). I wholeheartedly agree with that sentiment.

But.

Isn’t it nice when it is?

:D

~cunt

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Just trying this site out.

Punished

(This was filmed.. um.. last month I think. I have been way WAY too good lately to earn a punishment. No, really. I have. :D)

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The 12 Tasks of Christmas

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my Master’s task for me…

Twelve…

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The 12 Tasks of Christmas

On the tenth day of Christmas, my Master’s task for me…

Ten colors melting…

Nine orgasms screaming :D…

Eight weights a’swinging…

Seven hours a’tacking…

Six pins a’poking…

Five golden flames…

Four dozen clothespins…

Three hours of torture…

Two carved tits…

And a candle in my pussy…

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The 12 Tasks of Christmas

On the eighth day of Christmas, my Master’s task for me…

Eight weights a’swinging…

Seven hours a’tacking…

Six pins a’poking…

Five golden flames…

Four dozen clothespins…

Three hours of torture…

Two carved tits…

And a candle in my pussy.

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This is the part where real life interferes with LJ plans

Just as an FYI; the actual 12 days of Christmas are the 12 days *after* Christmas. So if anyone else wants to start a 12 days of torture tasks of Christmas, it’s not too late! Now watch, Master will extend this to the 24 tasks of Christmas or something. :P

~~*~~

I got the most beautiful package in the mail yesterday, sent to us from Taylor. It’s a framed print of the The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost and the meaning and significance of that poem is very deep for Master and I. Thank you Taylor, from both of us. You’re a gem. *muah*

~~*~~

Because of the holidays and family visits, the 12 tasks aren’t going to be laid out as I’d prefer. In fact, it’s going to mess with my little OCD head to have to post them this way but it’s unavoidable. Tomorrow, I get 3 tasks in one day (oh lucky me! :P) and I’ll post those for days 9, 10 and 11.

We’ll be at my mother’s house after that where there is no internet access. My mother believes that a)the internet is the Devil’s playground and it’s leading all of us users Straight To HELL! or b)the internet is the government’s tool for various mind control or conspiracy theories, those of which vary according to her mood and the day of the week. Personally, I think my mother needs another margarita and to shut the hell up. But that’s just me.

We are actually going there laden down with numerous bottles of alcohol, whether for them or us I’m not sure, but either way, someone is getting drunk. It’s really the best way to deal with my mother. My dad has been drunk for 30 years. ;)

Anyway, we’ll be back on Sunday, which is Task 12 day. That’s a task that I need Master’s help for, along with privacy and no tiny ears at the door. So I’m *hoping* that we can get it in and posted, but if we don’t, I can promise it will be there eventually.

And that’s about where the OCD kicks in to high gear, with much angst and whining about how we *have to* get it done No Matter What, because posting it on any other day simply ruins the *entire* thing, and it’s already fucked because I have to post three tasks in one day which totally ruins the *flow* and it’s too much stress and I can’t handle it so why don’t we just forget the whole damn thing and leave it at the 8 tasks of Christmas, even though thats not 12 and thats not right either and why did we start this when He knew we would be out of town, What Was He Thinking!!??

Stress much? :-)

Now Master’s much more laid back about the whole thing. If it gets done, Great! If it doesn’t, so what? Master has no concept of LJ Drama. Seriously. Being at the bottom of the totem pole and having no real say in how or when it gets done, I just get to sit down here and flit and fret while He relaxes with a Corona and watches me get all worked up.

Okay, so enough about that.

~~*~~

Master has officially tamed Aunt Flo. I don’t know how He did it but He did. That bitch has been upsetting my plans for the last 24 years with sudden and unexpected starts, most usually the day of a special occasion where I was going to wear white, or perhaps the day I planned on getting laid after three months of masturbation. It’s a constant thought among Women Making Plans. When is it due, when will it be over and how is it going to fuck up my sex life. Right? Well..not anymore not for me. Master picks the day it will start and that whorish little bitch meekly obeys. That would be today for anyone who wants TMI and Master had a nice power-tripping chuckle over that this morning. Hearing “I told you so” in regards to my traitorous uterus never made it on to my list of kinks and yet, here it is. I’ve no say anymore, not even in that, as Master and Aunt Flo are conspiring against me.

(And I know about the cup. I just keep forgetting to look for it at the store.)

~~*~~

Master comes home tomorrow night, and let me tell you, it is not a moment too soon. We seem to be stuck in a cycle of miscommunication hell and the only thing that will fix it is physical connection. It’s been three weeks, and a particularly long and difficult three weeks. I depend a great deal on Master’s presence, His physical aura and energy. I feed off it and I’m starving. On top of being excessively needy and pms’ing, are the facts of misunderstandings. I also rely on facial expressions, voice tones and body language for effective communication, both His and giving my own. Without the luxury of those things, we are continuously misstepping with each other and are unable to completely clear it up before the next one hits. As soon as the next happens, it only builds on top of the last one, with hurt feelings and wrong conclusions and there simply is not the time to sit down and dismantle the entire thing.

The good news is after this week, when He gets home, He’s on vacation for TWO WEEKS! YAY! I’m awfully excited about two weeks with Him, like… ‘little girl going to Disneyland’ kind of excited. Of course the kids will be out of school almost that whole time but I’ll even take that to have two whole travel-free Master-home weeks.

Well! I have to go! Much work to be done still and it’s not getting done sitting here babbling my fool head off. :D

Later ‘gators!

For shits and giggles… You know you want to know what’s back here…

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The 12 Tasks of Christmas

On the seventh day of Christmas, my Master’s task for me…

Oh come on. They can’t *all* be spectacular ;)…

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Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus

What we have here, is a failure to communicate.

Last night’s question is something that Master and I got into a little tiff over. Master has always said, either to me or about me to someone else, “she’s no supermodel”. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt my feelings, but at the same time I also think, well geez, I’m not a supermodel, so why do I let this bother me? It’s no different than when someone says my nose is funny because it *is*.

And the thing is, I know what His meaning is when He says that. Just like a lot of you said in the comments to that question, He’s not really referring to my physical appearance as much as He’s referencing my personality and my over-all attitude. To Him, ‘supermodel’ is a term that encompasses those anorexic, conceited, stupid bimbos. And not even models necessarily because clearly not all models are those things.

But in my view, saying “she’s no supermodel” is the same thing as saying “she’s not good enough to be a supermodel”. Either in reference to looks or weight, the implied message is that of “ugly”.

So last night, Master was talking about someone else and used that phrase. I attempted to point out that saying that about a woman is really very insulting and offensive. And thus, we began to argue.

I maintained that no matter what He is trying to say, the majority of people would take it as a negative comment, not as a compliment at all. He disagreed. He thinks everyone “knows what He means”. I think, and have always thought, that anyone who is listening when He says that about me, immediately gets a perception of me being fat and ugly and that He loves me in spite of those attributes. He says He loves me *because* I’m “no supermodel”.

You see the confusion? In my opinion, even if a person’s intention with what they say is meant to be complimentary, the person being talked about is not obligated to see it that way. If what you (not you specifically, you in general) are saying hurts someone, then you need to stop saying it. Does that make sense?

Maybe it’s just the difference between men and women and our perceptions. Here’s something that Master sent to me in an email after our heated debate last night.

“you are a very sexy and beautiful and wonderful lady…that i love to own and have sex with, fuck, make love to and do all sorts of other nasties with. [...]someone like you….NOT a super model, Not an anorexic girl, not someone that is only after money…..a loving, caring fun person.”

Now see, when it’s put that way, it’s very complimentary. And yet, I’m still holding on to the thought that what He *really* means is that I’m too fat and too unattractive to actually be a supermodel. And I still think that anyone who is listening to Him say that is thinking the same thing.

This other woman He was talking about last night, who is also “no supermodel” is someone He’s sort of attempting to fix up with a friend of His. And all I’m thinking is that if He continues to refer to her as not being a supermodel, this friend of His is going to get a vision of Mimi from the Drew Carey Show.

Not that I wouldn’t take Mimi over Paris Hilton any day.

That’s all I guess. It seems like it’s split just about in half for those of you who would be insulted and those who see it like He does. Honestly that surprises me as I’d have wagered most people seeing it as an insult. Thanks though, for making me see that quite possibly people really do “know what He means”. :-)

~cunt

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Opinion

If you heard the phrase “she’s no supermodel” being said about you, would you consider that an insult or a compliment?

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The 12 Tasks of Christmas

“Introducing back-up singers Bitch-ella and Moan-ette!”

On the sixth day of Christmas, my Master’s task for me…

Six pins a’poking…

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