Chasing Me Chasing You

An attempt to balance children, work, and my husband without losing my submission and myself.

Snip Snip

Sir and I have a big day today. I am only at the office this morning and then coming home at lunch. We have made the decision to be done having children. To make this a permanent decision Sir has decided to have a bilateral vasectomy. The procedure will be done this afternoon and he will be home from work until Monday.

I will continue to keep my implant as it releases hormones that my body needs to stay on track. But at this point, when it comes out, I may not get another one. Maybe if we are having regular sex with other partners, but we’ll see.

Sir decided that this option was much safer than me having a tubal ligation and doesn’t require an overnight hospital stay. He only has to be off work for a few days and has some sick time built up. My mother-in-law is also coming up to help make the school run tomorrow and, I think, also taking the kids this weekend. I will be helping my parents move into their new condo, so he will have peace and quiet. Just the dog, the couch, and rotation of frozen bags of peas for his dick.

I know I’m making light of this, but it’s a big deal. It means the world to me that he’s willing to take this pain on so I don’t have to have surgery. Taking off an afternoon of work is a lot less than the week I would probably lose if I was in the hospital. And he does get a weekend of computer games and quiet.

Honestly, the only bummer about it is that we can’t have sex for ten days. My Doxy and I will become even better friends, but it will be hard to be hands off of him. We’ll have to be good on our anniversary. I will probably encourage him to have some fun with one of his favorite canes after the kids go to bed. We’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t get too turned on and rip his stitches.

My Heart’s Desire

She blinded me with library science gif.
Sir bought me a bag with this on it when I finished my Master’s degree.

I love to read. I was not one of those kids who watched the movie or read the Cliff’s notes when writing a book report. I think the only book I put down without eventually finishing was Anna Karenina. That book drove me crazy on so many levels.

Typically I’ll read just about anything. I enjoy some sci-fi/fantasy, history, crime, biography. Right now I am working my way through the expansive Dismas Hardy Series by John Lescroart. Crime thriller plus beautiful San Francisco backdrop is a win/win.

Then there is the elephant in the room. My collection of smut (smut is what my mom calls it; and hers matches my own). At this point you could probably make a near life-size elephant out of them. Especially if you included all of my digital books. My general tastes are very specific; and I know that doesn’t make any sense.

My collection of romantic fiction is largely historical romance that take place in Scotland. I think I have a few English one. Most of the time, if there’s not a kilt on the cover, I’m not buying it. I don’t mind the formulaic nature or the predicable endings. Somehow, the Highlands of Scotland make that more palatable. And sometimes you just want a good happy-ending read.

However, while a nice quick read for a plane flight, these stories are not what I would call hot. As a kinky individual, I see and read BDSM into everything. But that still doesn’t always work in more vanilla fiction to get me hot and steamy. For that I need to alter the course a bit. And luckily, there is a large about amazing erotica and BDSM fiction out there. I wrote a general review of the Master’s of the Shadowlands series. Also, there is the book that should be named all of those similar works that have been subsequently released to its popularity.

I also keep meaning to write a review of Marie’s amazing work Flight LU-365 that was released earlier this year. I still intend to write a post about it, so I will just say that it’s amazing. A book that pushes your interpretation of a ‘happy ending’. An emotionally difficult piece that you just cannot put down.

I am sure that my blog will start to have more book reviews as I sort out more time to read. Now that we are moved into the new house I am hoping that evenings will be calmer. And I’m sure I will rotate through different types of books. Maybe I’ll keep two going at the same time. One ‘regular’ book to read on nights when Sir has to work late. And another for when he is home and wants to play. A good steamy piece of D/s fiction to get me dripping before he comes to bed.

The problem will always be putting the book down. Though I am sure that the real life variant will always win out.

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings

Sometimes Losing is Winning

I hate being bored. Okay, no one probably enjoys boredom. I hate not having anything to do.

I have a list for everything. Lists of chores, of work tasks. And, I include everything on a list. I will include relaxation time and/or activities if I can.

Because of my anal retentive nature I think Sir finds it difficult to give me tasks and chores. At least in a domestic sense. Part of that, I think is that with small children, and both of us working full-time it’s all hands on deck. Occasionally he’ll give me a specific chore that needs done, but that is usually because he is doing something else already. The other part may be because he knows I already know. I have a cleaning list that I made myself. I don’t need to be told that the bathrooms need cleaned.

We tried domestic control with tasks last fall. I had daily, weekly, and monthly tasks on a schedule. I had an application on my phone that was connected to his, so when I checked something off he was notified immediately. It worked for awhile, but we both just lost interest. I would forget to update until the end of the day and he would forget to ask. Tasks wouldn’t get done and there wasn’t follow-through on either of our parts. Motivation crumbled. And considering I often struggle to motivate myself just to get the cleaning done, this did not help.

Sexual or D/s tasks are very different. Tasks or challenges within a scene are generally very hot for both of us. Sir is a big fan of position challenges. Setting me up with all my weight on my clit smashed on a bar. Or holding his towel while he’s in the shower on my tip toes. Some have been successful; some have left me frustrated and upset. Obviously I want to please him, so I take my failures very seriously.

However, it is important for me to remember that often his tasks are set to fail. He wants to see how long I can last or how much I can take. There isn’t a set finish time; it’s just how long I can go. Him watching my struggle is 90% of his enjoyment (I am assuming the 10% is because I’m usually naked).

Kink of the Week logo

Floor Memories

Yesterday the twitter boyfriend and I were talking about how he’s not allowed to sleep naked. I said that sounded awful. A way of control that I guess, if I’m honest, I don’t approve of as it seems more judgmental than supportive. But to each his own; your kink does not have to be my kink and all that.

He reminded me that when we started chatting I was still sleeping on the floor and he always thought that was horrible. I sighed.

I miss the floor. A lot.

The toddler brought the dog bed into the kitchen yesterday afternoon and curled up in it while I baked banana bread. All I could think was how comfortable he looked (and adorable, by the way). Sir saw the look on my face and responded with, “some day”. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I could shake the look. The longing remained.

In the old house we had carpet in the master bedroom; now we have hard wood. I am not even phased. I fold a pile of blankets up every night that our kids throw around the living room wishing I was laying them out on the floor in our room. Letting Sir stretch out for a good sleep while I treasure his approval in allowing me to enjoy the floor.

A hard fuck, a quick suck, and curl up on my mat like the good girl I am.



It’s been a long time since I have been hurt. You don’t hurt me often and I don’t necessarily think you do it on purpose. But when it happens, I can’t breathe.

I want you to be happy. But I can’t always make the kids behave. I won’t always be in the best mood when you get home. I try. I really do.

Fuck it.

I hate how horrible I feel when you hurt me. Like it’s somehow my fault. You didn’t think, you just yelled. Only the look on my face let you know the damage you caused. But it was too late.

I cleaned the kitchen. I folded the laundry. I tried to stay busy and accomplish something to make you happy. To not see that anger again. All I wanted was to curl into a ball and cry. That’s how I feel when I disappoint you. I wanted every bit of fried food and ice cream I could stomach. Then I could at least be mad at myself for a good reason, ruining my diet.


I wrote that yesterday afternoon. When I was still hurting and upset.

I thought I wanted you to feel guilty, but that doesn’t accomplish anything. You apologized, you felt bad. I’m not sure I need any more than that. Torturing you by continuing to be hurt about it isn’t going to fix it.

I just want you to feel better. This stress that has you on edge of anxious all the time is wearing you down. Not to mention what it is doing to us; though that is a pretty selfish motive for change. We have enough to be stressed about. Our relationship, our time together should be a refuge from all that. Whether that can include D/s right now, I don’t know.

I guess I just wish that you didn’t have to hurt me to realize that something is wrong.

It’s Friday

My mind is focused on money and stress at the moment. Kink keeps trying to make it’s way in, but it’s losing miserably. And I wish it would win. There is only so much you can worry about money and bills and all that crap. And only so much one can do about it in that moment anyway.

At least it’s Friday.

Elust #85

Elust 85

Elust 85 header
Photo courtesy of Cheeky Minx

Welcome to Elust 85

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #86 Start with the rules, come back September 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!


~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

The Case of the Purloined Panties


~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

The Inspection Zone
Date with prey


~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~


*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!


Erotic Fiction

After Dark
Night World Flash Fiction
Temper temper
How to Start Super Sex
Nobody Comes Looking For Me
it was time to play

Erotic Non-Fiction

Cunnilingus. The Most Special Intimate Kiss
Nastya is nasty
“Do you want to cum in my mouth?” A Memoir
Humiliation: Raylene’s caning 2

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Come as you are…
A Case for Good Men
Changing Labels
10 Commandments of Courteous Casual Sex
The Aftermath
I miss you

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Formative Kink: “Tanya, the Lotus Eater”
At his feet
Consent In Gorean Culture

Body Talk and Sexual Health



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While I love to watch them, I am not good with any contact or team sports. In high school, once I couldn’t dance anymore, I ran track. Specifically, cross-country in the fall. Running around in circles on the track in the spring always made me feel like a gerbil.

Cross-Country was (in rural Ohio, anyway) across fields and around reservoirs. The changing scenery kept it from getting too boring. However, looking back, it also made me realize that my kinkiness had deeper, older roots that I thought.

I, ever the dramatist, would create stories in my head as I ran. Using myself as a character to distract from my increasing fatigue, or more often to provide motivation. I would generally be running from something or someone. A man, or group of men, out looking for me. No doubt, to use for some nefarious purpose if/when I was caught. How I had stupidly allowed myself to end up in some field alone was always perfectly explained. And, my only home of retaining my virtue was to make it back to my coach as fast as possible.

I was an odd kid.

I would get quite elaborate with my reasons for why they were chasing me and what would happen if I was caught. Not matter the reason though, debauchery was always included. If a teammate would run with me for any period of time they would get wrapped into the tale too. I needed to keep her safe, or they would take us both.

I remember the idea of it was always hot. Running from big, bad, burly med who wanted to do naughty things to little 16 year-old me. Sort of a reverse motivation was created though. No wonder I always ran so slow.

Maybe my ‘kink revelation’ a few years ago shouldn’t really have been that big of a surprise.

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings

TMI Tuesday: Misc.

TMI Tuesday: August 16, 2016

Step right up! Get your TMI Tuesday here.

1. Where is the most beautiful place on earth and why?

For me, the highlands of Scotland. No question. Beautiful in any weather during any time of day. Every photo I have of the landscapes and castles are stunning.

2. How old is the most expired item in your fridge?

March 2016

3. What’s under your bed?

Shoes, a stash of sex towels (for easy reach), probably some dirty socks

4. What is in your pocket?

Nothing, I don’t use my pockets.

5. Which famous person would you like to be best-friends with? Why?

J.K. Rowling. Multiple reasons. Scotland is an obvious connection point. Her writing skill is another. I think she’s funny, strong, and politically like-minded to me. And I think she might be a tad kinky 🙂

6. There is now a line of lacy lingerie for men. Would you wear it or like to see your man in it? See here and here

Why not? I can’t imagine Sir would go for it, but it might be nice to see him in it once or twice for fun.

Bonus: Think The Olympics. Men’s gymnastic uniforms–sexy or goofy? Discuss!


The tops aren’t bad. The stirrup pants are a bit goofy though. At least the socks match. Just think of how bad they would be if they were a contrasting color. They don’t look any less manly than the outfits that figure skaters wear. And I guess you want something that doesn’t affect your balance or drag while you are spinning. Or anything that would catch on your skin or equipment.


How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link totmituesdayblog from your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!


Brownie Points

Rye had a bit of a rough morning. I had given her a straight-forward task to perform while I was in the shower. Stand on tip-toe while holding my towel at arms’ length, raising it slightly higher toward the ceiling every time she lost her balance. She was doing well, with her arms almost reaching the ceiling as I finished in the shower. As I was finishing myself up – and honestly taking my time – she safe-worded out of the exercise; I later learned that her ankle was giving out and she was at risk of falling over. I climbed out of the shower and asked if the task was more painful than it seemed at first. My question was met with a wall of defenses; redirection, incredulity, anger, and more besides. I was taken off guard and it took me a moment to gather myself.

A lot went through my head at that moment. We switched places and she climbed into the shower while I started to dry off. She was holding herself in her arms and sobbing huge, silent tears into the corner of the shower, busily tearing herself to ribbons for what she thought was a failure. I climbed back into the shower, held her, and explained a few things. I explained that the purpose of the assignment was in the doing it at all and in the not giving up until health and well-being became an issue. I soothed her out of her head and back into the moment, where I was proud that she had engaged in so superfluous and unproductive a task at all. She consented to stop beating herself up for the moment.

So, I went upstairs and laid out her clothes, from the inside out, so to speak. Starting with the Njoy Pure plug, a tube of lube, and the Doxy, and then onto a shirt and skirt, I prepared her appearance for the day. I don’t normally do this because I don’t normally get to do this, but it felt important in that moment that she feel an extra layer of my influence and approval.

I left her to get dressed while I did some cleaning down stairs – until I heard the telltale buzz of the Doxy. I went up; she was beautiful. I tugged on and assaulted her nipples while she came. I forced her throat down around my cock while she came. I beat her ass with a belt while she came. All separate and massive orgasms, by the way.

And then I offered her some Brownie Points.  “Do you want some brownie points today?”

“Yes please,” she chirped, enthusiastically. 

I pulled her short leash out of the playbox. If I am remembering correctly, this came from one of Rye’s old clutch purses. I attached the tether to the Njoy’s handle, and instructed her to leave the lead for the day. 

Rye with her plug and her leash on.

She did. The whole time we were out at a fancy restaurant to celebrate her birthday. It led to an interesting and hilariously compromising situation, but I’ll leave Rye to share it, as she knows more of the details, and it would be a story whose heart is more in the truth than the embellishment.

Unfortunately, however, she did not get to spend the day in the skirt I had picked out, but that’s mostly because I insisted on cumming on her face before lunch and the skirt got gobbed on. “If it was only one spot, I’d probably leave it, but this is a bit obvious.”

You could fairly ask what the point of any of this is. In all honestly, I’m not sure myself – real life often defies logical presentation. If it were fiction, I would suggest that the story of the plug come before the story of the tears, so that the energy for the former could feed the emotion of the later. I would give the whole thing a small bundle of possible interpretations, all somehow distinct and connected at the same time. I would give it an optimistic but ambiguous conclusion.

Life defies narrative direction, but soars in the telling.

A close up of Rye's ass with her plug and her leash.