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My Idea of Torture is not His Idea of Torture

March 29th, 2010 2 comments

i’ll set the scene for everyone: two exhausted parents, with way too much stuff to do and not enough time to do it, finally convince someone to take the kids for a night. This is on par with the planets aligning in a straight line.  Whatever do you think they will do whilst the children are away?

I can assure you of this: it ain’t sleeping.

That’s right, I conned sweet-talked my dad into taking all three of the anklebiters for a night so The Man and i could finally relate to each other on a plane different than Dad and Mom. When i got back from dropping them off, i was elated and anxious, if i’d had a tail i would have been wagging it so hard it would have hit me in the nose.  i’d been asking for a beating like no other…one that would leaving me snuffling and slumped, twitching and walking like an old grandma for a few days. It’s been a long time since a beating like that. i’d been craving one for quite some time and was hoping that this could be my chance to relish getting the snot whomped outta me.

We puttered in the garage, cutting paddles out and sanding them down, laughing and enjoying the camaraderie.  Went inside, He tells me to get the razor: it was time to ‘shear the sheep’ as i so delicately put it.  So He shaves me, and oh, it is such a trust building activity, to let Him get near my nether-parts with a sharp vibrating blade, without trembling in fear or squirming to close my legs from the detached appraising look He has when judging if the job is done. They both are so… invading, so intimate. Remember that word, kids: we will be revisiting it. Anyway, i bounce off to the shower and shave the rest of me, towel off, and start arranging myself into the corset and stocking He picked out. Suddenly we realize that it’s quite late for me to be making a delish supper, so i put on a long skirt, did up my make-up and off to town we went, for supper and drinks. Read more…

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