No news is not good news. It’s freakin’ boring news!

I’ve not reported anything because there is nothing to report. ~le sigh~

“It” hasn’t happened yet. While I realize it has to be when Master feels like it and not a moment before, this waiting game sucks. In fact, it is the suckiest suck that ever sucked. And I really should leave this topic alone because there is a *whole* lotta negative thoughts rolling around about it.

See? I *am* learning when to keep my trap shut. ~beams~

The really bad thing about it is that over the last couple of days I’ve developed a dangerous sense of security in that ‘gee, nothing’s going to happen so la-di-da and yippee-kai-yay’ and now when (if?) it happens, I’ll probably feel all kinds of betrayed or some such stupid shit. But, really, a person cannot exist in that state of nervous trepidation forever.

Anyway. Moving on.

He certainly hasn’t lost all of His mojo though considering the way He took me early this morning. He woke me up by gruffly demanding that I get on my back and spread my legs where He poked and twiddled and rubbed me until I was nice and moist and then delivered several short, smart smacks to my wet cunt. He gave me the clothespins that are kept on the nightstand and told me to put them on my nipples, which is no easy feat in the dark when you are still half-asleep and your fingers don’t wanna cooperate (or your nipples, for that matter). Then I was flipped over to my knees and elbows where I got another couple of cracks to my cunt – that sounded like gunshots in the quiet stillness of the early morning. He was in a mood to hear me hurting which doesn’t take much effort before the sun rises. He raked His nails up and down my bare back, He tugged, twisted and pinched the clothespins, He grabbed up big handfuls of flesh and squeezed, digging His fingernails in until I’d cry out. Over my hips, my inner thighs, outer thighs, across my cunt, my breasts, He dug in, gouging deep red lines across my skin.

I’m not generally a big fan of pain-before-coffee, but I have to admit this morning’s wake up was a whole helluva lot better than the raucous meep-meep-meep of the alarm clock. I went to work with a smile on my face and a party still going on in my pants.

I want more. I was thinking, as I was being skinned alive by His fingernails, that *someone* was going to be getting a manicure tonight, but if I do it in this kind of horny-hurt-me mood, I’ll accidentally-on-purpose file His nails into daggers. Yum.

And that’s pretty much been it. I had a great Mother’s Day and got lots and lots of presents. Way too many if I’m to be honest, but who doesn’t like to be spoiled? Work is still crazy, though I think there is an end in sight. I worked this morning and I’m going back in to work this afternoon’s shift so I’m about to go pop a meal in the crockpot and get a loaf of bread started. I’ve got some chores to finish and some errands to run. Typical day.

Master is flying out again on Monday for who knows how long. I’ll be so god-damn glad when this project is finished. He’s a bear when He’s stressed. Bah.

So, I almost feel guilty that I have no punishment-report, but you’ll have to take it up with the Man with the Stick. His email is listed over on the sidebar. As for me? I’m staying out of it. My momma didn’t raise no fool.

I hope you all had a terrific Mother’s Day, or if you don’t celebrate it, then a terrific weekend. I do apologize for my sporadic posts, but bear with me until they train the replacement for the bitch girl who walked out.

~cunt

Man cannot live on chocolate alone; but woman sure can.

I LOVE chocolate covered cherries.

Well, let’s be honest here, I love chocolate covered anything. After Master’s ban on chocolate I’ve paid particular attention to the reported health benefits of chocolate. I’ve made it my personal mission to sway Master’s opinion of chocolate. Conveniently leaving off the fact that milk chocolate is high in fats and sugars, here’s what I know:

* Cacao, the source of chocolate, contains antibacterial agents that fight tooth decay. Of course, this is counteracted by the high sugar content of milk chocolate.

* The smell of chocolate may increase theta brain waves, resulting in relaxation.

* Chocolate contains phenyl ethylamine, a mild mood elevator.

* The cocoa butter in chocolate contains oleic acid, a mono-unsaturated fat which may raise good cholesterol.

* Drinking a cup of hot chocolate before meals may actually diminish appetite.

* Men who eat chocolate live a year longer than those who don’t.

* The flavanoids in chocolate may help keep blood vessels elastic.

* Chocolate increases antioxidant levels in the blood.

* Mexican healers use chocolate to treat bronchitis and insect bites.

* The carbohydrates in chocolate raise serotonin levels in the brain, resulting in a sense of well-being.

* Eating chocolate is almost as good as having an orgasm. (Okay, that fact may only apply to me, but I threw it in there anyway.)

And, on that note, here is why chocolate is better than sex:

*Chocolate satisfies even when it has gone soft.

*You can make chocolate last as long as you want it to.

*If you bite the nuts too hard the chocolate won’t mind.

*You don’t get hairs in your mouth with chocolate.

*Chocolate doesn’t make you pregnant.

*When you have chocolate it does not keep your neighbors awake.

Ultimately, Master is coming around to accepting the fact that in order to live in a peaceful house, I require chocolate. The ban is loose these days, apparently me snarling and baring my teeth now and then wasn’t worth hiding the chocolate. Though I’m not allowed to make my three squares meals out of chocolate alone, nor can I just up and gorge myself on it at will, if HE buys it, I can eat it. And eat it I do. With a deep pleasure newly rekindled.

To show my appreciation for such generosity and for the TWO boxes of chocolate covered cherries that Master bought me last night, I combined my two favorite things ever. Him… and chocolate.

And it was yummy.

~cunt

(That top picture looks exactly like a chocolate covered cherry, don’t it? tee hee)

Endurance

The thing about this position is how torturously uncomfortable it is.