Spoon-fed
Sometimes he lets me snooze for another 10 or 15 minutes in the morning while he’s contemplating life on the bathroom throne. Today though, with snow whirling and blowing outside and a truck that I knew I’d have to clean off and warm up, those decadent 15 minutes weren’t given.
So I got up. 4:30am.
I mean, it’s bad enough having to go outside AT ALL when the wind is gusting at 30mph, whipping hard little pellets of icey snow on every uncovered part of your body. But at 4:30am, straight out your bed and not even awake? Major ball suckage. Srsly.
However, I am da slabe. I do the snow and ice and wind gusts. It is my lot in life. ~dramatic martyrical hand to forehead~
It wakes you up though. I’ll give it that much.
Once the truck was cleared of snow and the heater running, I came back in, made coffee and waffles, got his lunch together (leftover homemade chicken noodle soup from last night’s dinner, a turkey and provolone sandwich on a deli roll, and a navel orange), took that out to the truck, turned on the news station he likes to watch while he eats, sat quietly at his side while he did such, followed him down the stairs with his travel coffee mug filled and ready, sat on the step giving him his quickie morning backrub while he put on his gear, stood still for the morning ritualistic nipple tweaks and ass slaps, kissed him goodbye and stood at the door until he was in the truck and out of the driveway.
In that order.
I was feeling quite pleased with myself and my service. I’d been pleasant, smiling, eager in my tasks.
My “gift of submission” had been prettily wrapped and handed over with a bright, shiny bow.
So a tad later in the day, he calls me up.
I was all a’twitter, still, with self-satisfaction.
In other words, I was ready to reap my rewards. My “good girl’s” and head pats and praises.
I smiled into the phone. “Hello, my darling Master!” I exclaimed joyfully. I was THIS close (See here: >.<) to bursting.
"Bitch. You forgot to pack me a spoon."
...
Cue deflation.
~grin~
I know that I'm differently wired, but to tell the truth, I got more squishy from "Bitch, you forgot my spoon" than I would have gotten from him telling me how much he appreciated my pretty, pretty gift.
I luffs him.
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Uncategorized | kaya | 
Wednesday December 9th, 2009 12:12pm
You need to write a book. You have major writing talent.
It does not even have to be about BDSM but there is the ‘write what you know’ theory.
You have talent.
Aww. Thank you! You’re my new best friend.
“martyrical”… what a wonderful word.
Hee. Ur such a good girl. :3 I’m too much of an uppity bitch to let that stand.
“Bitch, you forgot my spoon!”
“-Tears! Woe! accusations of not noticing my love!-”
[rq=1455398,0,blog][/rq]The Holly King is coming!
You’se so funny!!! I was awake at 430…it was snowing like crazy here (new england) we got too.damn.much.snow. You keep yours, k?
(smiles)
nilla
[rq=1455449,0,blog][/rq]WOW!!
*nilla slaps forehead* duh! should have said was awake at 430 but snuggled cozy in my bed, hee!
[rq=1455463,0,blog][/rq]WOW!!
With the amount of snow that we got in the area, i’m surprised you didn’t have to get up earlier. Or else have to scrape off the truck again by the time that He was ready to leave.
*grins & hugs*
[rq=1455811,0,blog][/rq]i’m back
You mean you weren’t crushed that you’d disappointed him?
lol. I wasn’t! Am I kicked out of the Submissive Women’s Club now?
Yes, but don’t worry, we literally just kick you outside of our circle, call you a bitch, and then let you back in.
Personally, I like to aim my ass for the kicks so they hit where I like it
Heh. Is it that swooshing feeling, a little like missing a step when you’re going downstairs? It is for me… Some people miss a step going down the stairs and have a panic attack and hate it. Some people love the surge of adrenaline.
Me? I have a panic attack, hate it endlessly AND I love it so much I dream about missing stairs. Literally.
(My doctor says I have anxiety “issues” and I’d have to agree.)
I’m so deep and complicated.
~Chloe, who giggles at the word “deep” with alarming regularity.
[rq=1458700,0,blog][/rq]No Matter What – Version 2.0
bwahahahahahahahah!
As for snow and 4:30 in the morning… oh hellllll no. We didn’t even get out of bed until after 8 this morning.
[rq=1460612,0,blog][/rq]Bitten
Okay, so write something else now…
Isn’t anything interesting happening at your house?
Haven’t you made some great Christmas decorations or something you want to show pictures of?
OH! HEY. I have a spatula that your Master can spank you with that will leave the imprints of snowflakes on your ass! Nice bruises, too… or he could use the metal end.
[rq=1464602,0,blog][/rq]This Will End In Tears
“I have a spatula that your Master can spank you with that will leave the imprints of snowflakes on your ass! Nice bruises, too… or he could use the metal end.”
I’m totally putting you on ignore.
*nods*
We are all differently wired. Loved the spoon comment. Did it make you want to cum?
I want a spatula with snowflakes! Now I know what to get Sir for Christmas!
Hey, em. They’re from William Sonoma!
[rq=1488677,0,blog][/rq]I’m not Bossy and a Wedding Story…