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Posts Tagged ‘conversations with Master’

Muddy Ideas

October 13th, 2014 3 comments

“You could tie me up and fuck me like this,” I said. In my head, I went, “When did I start making suggestions again?”

Months and months ago, Master said he’d know when I was ready to play like we used to, and I asked how.

He said something like, “You’ll start making suggestions again.”

Apparently, when I’m up for whatever, I give him all sorts of ideas.

He pumped his hips against my ass a couple times, being funny. Then he said, “In your ass!” not being funny.

“You could!” I said, but I’m not feeling well today, so I followed it up with, “though today’s probably not a good idea.”

“No day is a good idea, according to you. So how about I’ll just decide when I want to be grossed out and you’ll just do as you’re told.”

I laughed. And then said, “If you’re gonna play in the mud, you’re gonna get dirty.”

“That’s fucking disgusting. Don’t say that!”

I think that’ll keep him out of my ass for at least a month. You think?

A Conversation About Fear and Spoiled Slaves

March 4th, 2014 5 comments

CollarOn Saturday, we went for a drive.

Master was going to head out to Vischer Ferry so we could take pictures along the Old Erie Canal. I said, “I was going to bring my camera, and then I decided not to.”

“Well,” he said, “I was thinking about stopping at Walmart so we can pick up one of those binoculars-slash-digital-camera things we were talking about getting.”

“That’d be great. I forgot to bring tampons, and I have to pee.”

He glared at me, and launched his usual tirade about me forgetting something so crucial to our being able to stay out a while. In truth, my uterus is being a finicky bitch (as she is wont to do), and I only have my period every other twenty-four hours. Saturday was an other day, but you can never be too sure. I told him that, but he wanted those binoculars, so we went. Read more…

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So, Uh…About Aunt Flo…

February 25th, 2014 3 comments

M and me making faces“So, uh…shouldn’t you be bleeding by now?”

“Mayyyybe.” In truth, I don’t know. I stopped keeping track of my period the day my tubes were tied. I mean, I always have an estimated idea of when my next one is due, but since my last child, my period has never really been exact, and I finally just gave up worrying about whether or not I was pregnant because I haven’t gotten pregnant in thirteen years.

I mean, I know it’s been a few weeks. But has it been three or four? I dunno! Every once in a while, my cycle falls around the sixth of the month. Other times, it falls around the fifteenth. Which is it now? I don’t know!

“I feel like you should be bleeding by now.”

“Well…yesterday my back was killing me. Today my boobs hurt. My stomach’s fucked up and I can’t sleep. So maybe soon?”

“Yeah…uh…”

“Or maybe I’m pregnant,” I said sardonically.

“No babies! No babies! No babies!” he yelled, in his best game show voice.

“Yeah, that’s one abortion I’ll pay for,” I reply.

“You’ll do what I tell you,” he retorts. “So just don’t get pregnant.”

P.S. This is mostly a joke. Yes, I was a little late, but we’re talking days, not weeks, and M and me were mostly just fucking with each other.

P.P.S I started my period later that day. No babies!

What’re you doing?

August 28th, 2013 Comments off

“What’re you doing?” he asks, obviously perplexed.

“What do you mean what am I doing?”

“I mean bake a cake. I mean what are you doing?!”

“…I’m answering comments on Insatiable Desire.”

“WHY ARE YOU PICKING AT YOUR COMPUTER?!”

“I’m cleaning the crumbs out of it…this is why I asked what you meant.”

It’s like that…

August 19th, 2013 Comments off

“I can’t believe your boxers are still sitting on my shelf.”

“That’s because you haven’t picked them up, yet.”

“Are you five?”

“No, I’m your master, bitch.”

Sometimes there’s only one thing left to say.

July 23rd, 2013 2 comments

MeGaggedYesterday, Master turned to me and said, “Why don’t you get the dishes done and then get in the shower?”

And I snapped, “I’m writing.”

I mean, I was…sort of. I was actually surfing the web for a topic, and had veered off into the weeds a little. Apparently, Miley Cyrus said she feels like a man in an interview, and now people are wondering if she’s questioning her sexuality. So I was searching around trying to figure out what the fuck they were talking about, as if that has any business on any of the sites I currently write for. But I thought maybe I could squeeze a post out of it, ya know?

Yeah, that was dumb. The weed combing and the snapping at Master.

I made a big to-do about getting up and doing the dishes afterward, as if I had any right, and then I stomped off to the shower. And while I’m scrubbing, he pokes his head in and says, “Hey, maybe we should communicate with each other, instead of you going off? What do you think?”

What else could I say, but, “Yes, Master.”

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