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Patience, grasshopper.

April 4th, 2010

The Man has been lazy lately. i am totally justified in saying that. He works all day, He goes and plays/works outside after work until the kids need to go to bed, then He comes in and does the bills or watches tv. Then it is our bedtime. It isn’t in physical activity that He’s been slacking. It’s been in the physical mastering and forceful subjugation He’s less enamored with.

When we started figuring out what we both wanted, we discovered that i wanted the pain play as much as He wanted to give it. Even with the kids, we found time to indulge both of our desires. Recently, He has felt the urge to beat me less and less, so i’ve been scrambling to learn a new way to squelch the seething need to be taken down and reduced to sniveling pile of sore bitch-flesh. (See that line made me hawt. That’s how hard-up i am.)

i’ve asked for a session, i’ve begged. He has no interest in it, so i have accepted that He isn’t in that head-space. Not graciously, not without a little bitterness and cuntishness. Right now, all i can give is the acceptance. i have no way of knowing if i will ever feel the lash of His belt or the punch of the flogger handle. This kills me a little, not knowing where He is taking me. i understand in my mind that His will overrides mine, but in my heart (my slavie heart snicker) i rail against it. i don’t want to accept it, i want a good solid beating and some rough sex to finish me off.

Can i subjugate that desire? Can i beat the tiger into the cage again?

i am going to have to learn, because i don’t see the drought easing up.

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