Chasing Me Chasing You

An uncollared submissive struggling through depression, motherhood, and the constant craving of her next orgasm.

Define Your Kink: Day 8

#8 –  Is spanking or corporal punishment a part of your submission? Why or why not?

The short answer is: yes.

In my previous dynamic with my husband we incorporated spanking as a punishment. This was done with bare hands, belts, whips, and canes. Usually this would part of a larger scene, but on occasion was done for specific infractions.

I found that my success rate with it largely depended on what happened afterward. I know that seems silly, but it always had the largest impact (pun intended) when there was solid aftercare. If it was merely an explanation of what I did wrong, several spankings, and being sent on my way, I faultered. The spanking wasn’t enough of a ‘punishment’, as odd as that may sound. I would continue to beat myself up (figuratively) about my mistake. If, when he thought I had been properly corrected, told me that I was still a ‘good girl’, and that I was forgiven, then I responded better.

My current dynamic with my Sir has only been long distance. He and I haven’t had the situation arise where punishment has been necessary. And, as much as I would love to keep it that way, I’m sure it will need to be discussed at some point. He and I have largely looked at spanking as a form of play, not punishment. But I know it’s something he practices with his primary sub, so I’m sure it will feature in our relationship in some form.

Check out the other Define your Kink questions and answers that I have done do far!

The Ordeal of the Nipple

Or probably more accurately titled: My ineptitude causes my own pain.

So for those not following along (no judgment, I can hardly keep this mess straight from day to day), I got my nipples pierced last year. This fall they had healed enough that I took out the barbells that were a bit too big and put in black rings. I wasn’t a huge fan of them when I bought them and they never really grew on me. While I got the piercings for my husband, I wanted them to at least look cute. And the black rings were way too drab for me. As often as I try to show off my breasts, I want them to look nice.

So as I embark on this new form of D/s with a new Sir, I wanted to try a fresh start. We aren’t at a place of collars just yet, but I really wanted his opinion on this new jewelry. During one of our conversations I sent him a few links to some designs and we both agreed that the heart keys were the cutest. My husband was on board and bought them last week. I was so excited when they arrived. I ended up getting pissy with the kids as they wouldn’t go to bed fast enough. Finally  they remained in their rooms long enough for me to call it a win; if they got up now it was their own therapy bill.

In my eagerness to get them switched I grabbed the ball on one of the rings and began to unscrew it. That was the easiest and last pain-free moment of the evening. With the ball released I attempted to pull the ring free from my nipple. It caught several times and pinched like a bitch before I got it out. I looked at my husband with the realization that this was not going to be the fun, quick process I had hoped for. It faded even more when I tried to put the new post in. I couldn’t get it to go in, not even a little bit. It was catching on something, and whatever that something was, it hurt a lot.

After struggling for a few minutes I had to stop. I was tearing up and it was getting too hard to see. My husband attempted to intervene at this point, which was sweet. It didn’t actually help and it hurt even worse, but I appreciated him rubbing my arm while he did it. After a bit more whimpering we stopped for a break.

He had a good idea to try and use lube to help, which turned out to be the answer. I got the first key in place and quickly twisted the end on. It pinched my already sore nipple, but I didn’t care. I was so worried that I wasn’t going to be able to get in place. With no where to turn at that time of night, I was worried that my piercing would close up. As panic set in and the pain of the first nipple worsened, I decided to forgo the second.

My husband brought up an ice pack for my sore nipple. He suggested I go to the tattoo parlor in town after work the next day to see if they could help me get the other post in place. And we were both concerned at the amount of pinching that the first was causing me. I was awake most of the night. The random pangs and pinches kept waking me up and keeping me from any kind of restful sleep.

Work the next day was torture. I was writing to my Sir how the pain would occasionally turn to arousal (not that that was a good thing at work), but it didn’t last long. The soreness in my right breast was intense. I was starting to worry that my ham-fisted actions the night before had left my piercing infected. I felt so stupid for buying jewelry online and worried that I had just wasted money (of our very tight budget) buying something that I couldn’t even use.

I tried not to look too defeated as I walked into the tattoo parlor after leaving the office. The woman who does their piercings there is super nice. I explained my predicament and she immediately waved me back to her station. With a simple, “We’ll get you fixed up”, she did. Apparently my bars were too short and that is what was causing the pinching. So she modified my pretty jewelry by simply switching out the bar with a longer one. Then she gave me tips on how to remove my jewelry more carefully and put it in without all the pain (lube was the key; my husband was on the right track).

It took less than ten minutes and my boobs looked amazing and the soreness was nearly gone. I wanted to give her a hug, but went for a big tip instead. Waking up this morning, after sleeping much better, the pain was completely gone.

Hopefully I will get a chance to take the Sinful Sunday photo that I want tonight and you will get to see my cuteness properly. If not, the quick shots I took for twitter will have to do for now. But as panicky and painful as the other night was, I did learn a lot.

  1. Lube is always the answer, for everything.
  2. I’ll get a million more tattoos before I get anything else pierced.
  3. Y’all are going to be seeing a lot of my boobs over the next few months, cause they look damn cute with these keys.

Workshop Pet

He handed me his empty coffee cup and got up from the table. I walked over to the sink to rinse it before putting it in the dishwasher. He stepped out of the kitchen and came back a few seconds later with my green leash. I was pretty sure I squealed with excitement as I ran over to him.

“Would you like to come to the shop with me for awhile pet?”

“Yes please, Sir.”

“You promise to be good and stay on your bed for me?”

“Yes, Sir.” I put my on my best innocent face and smiled sweetly. The last thing I wanted was to be left in the house alone.

“Good girl.” Click. The leash snapped onto my collar and I fell in step behind him as we headed out the back door.

The walk across the backyard to the workshop was quick. Sir had gone to the hardware store earlier in the week, so I knew he would be itching to get to work. I had hoped he would allow me to come and watch. As we approached the door to the shop I bent down and got on all fours. Sir likes that I have chosen to honor the workshop by always crawling as I enter. In fact, aside from one sexy interlude where I was thrown over a work bench, I was always on my knees or lower in the building.

Sir turned and smiled at me as he opened the door and I crawled in. The workshop was a remodeled three car garage. Sir had put a lot of work into making it meet his needs. Now there was room for all his equipment, his materials, and finished work that was ready to sell. Sir walked over and clipped the leash to the ring he had added to the side of his work bench. I nuzzled his leg as I moved onto my bed underneath his design desk.

There were two big tables at the ‘work’ end of the shop. One for design and detail work and one for this lathe and saws. When he first started allowing me to come out with him he bought me a bed to sit in. This was to be sure I stayed safe and not get underfoot. It also allowed for me to be able to give foot massages and other ‘services’ while he drew plans or did bookkeeping. The bed was made of soft minky material and I even had a blanket that stayed in the shop. He had also built a little shelf for a few toys and books so I didn’t feel ignored while he was working.

Sir walked away from the desk to grab some wood samples and paper. I sat cross-legged on my bed and enjoyed just watching him focus on his work. He soon sat on the stool directly in front of me and began to draw. The radio was tuned to the local rock station and it was all I could not to sing a long. I gave Sir’s pants two small tugs. The music volume lowered.

“Yes, pet?”

“May I service you while you work?” I watched the bulge in his pants twitch as he considered my request.

“You may, but I have to do some machine work in a bit, so when I say stop you must not pout.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

I reached for the button holding his jeans. He scooted forward on the stool so that I could release his cock and remain under the desk. My request must have pleased him as he was throbbing as I greedily took his cock from his jeans and began licking and kissing him. The smell of him mixed with the smell of shop was such a turn on for me. I took him deep in my throat and he moaned over the music. I wanted to take my time and savor him, but I also knew that this, while pleasant, was distracting him from his work. So while I massaged and licked him, I also took him deep and tried to push him toward orgasm.

I wanted him to cum. To hear his moans as I helped him find release. He didn’t always let me do this when I came out here, so I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. I continued my pace as his left hand reached under the desk to push my head further on his cock. His grip on my hair tightened as his muscles began tiny thrusts into my mouth. I ran my tongue under his shaft and licked down to his balls. He groaned and with two hard thrusts emptied himself down my throat.

Holding my mouth still over his cock I rolled my tongue around him as he continued to twitch. I could feel his cum sliding slowly down my throat. We sighed in unison as he pulled out of my mouth and zipped his jeans back up.

“Good girl. Thank you for your service pet.”

“The pleasure is mine, Sir.”

“Are you going to take a nap, or can I turn the music back up?”

“I left one of my Judy Blume books out here, so I think I will read. Please feel free to listen to whatever pleases you. Thank you for asking.”

“Good girl.” He reached down and caressed my cheek as I settled down in my bed to read. The music turned up. Fat Bottomed Girls made me smile as I rubbed Sir’s leg one last time before curling up and enjoying his presence for the afternoon.

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings

November Goals

The last few days have been pretty rough. I wasn’t in a great place on Sunday and things went down hill through the afternoon. Sunday night I was a crying mess. I think my poor twitter boyfriend and Jack were both ready to strangle me through the internet. I just couldn’t pull myself out of it.

In the end Sir and I had a good talk. It was long and emotional, something which usually causes us to avoid it at all costs. But we have been drifting too long; we needed this to figure out how to come back together. Work stress and various other things have been pushing on each of us the last few weeks, and it finally came to a head. In the end we were both feeling a lot of the same loneliness and overwhelmed confusion. And, as usually happens, we realized our silliness and had some amazing make-up sex.

So…on a completely different note, I have decided to take part in two ‘events’ going on in the month of November. The first (tangentially related) is All Anal November. It’s one my 101 Things goals and something I’ve always wanted to try. We are setting some rules that oral is still allowed (because Sir still wants to be able to demand his cock be sucked). Basically I’m not allowed any vaginal penetration. No dildos, nothing. My pussy is already twitching in desperation. But, Sir wanted to look at enemas as a regular thing, so this will give us the chance to try that. Who am I kidding, I’ll be whining about how much I want fucked within a week.

The other thing I’m attempting this year is NaNoWriMo, which stands for National Novel Writing Month. The goal is to write 50,000 words, or a rough draft of a novel in the month of November. I have an idea and a chapter outline, we’ll see if that’s enough. I’m supposed to aim for around 1,700 words a day to stay on target. With trying to write sexy things on here and write that, it should be an interesting month.

A lot of things to look forward to and to keep me on track for the next few weeks. Weight-loss, writing, and lots of anal sex. This might be my favorite month this year.

Societal norms and how they fuck with me

I spent my formative years in several different states, school districts, and houses. The bulk of which, however, was in a farm house and small school in western Ohio. A large, rural community with almost exclusively conservative undertones. As much as my parents ingrained their own liberal values, I was (I realize now) constantly affected by the societal expectations of my community.

Fast-forward to present day. I have a BDSM relationship with my husband and we have decided to open up our marriage. So, what do I do? I jump in with both feet. I had been talking with Jack from Jack and Jill for a long time on twitter. When the chance arose to meet him and his wife for a few days of fun I didn’t waste time considering outcomes. I went to California earlier this month and had a fabulous time.

The problem is, however, that I had a fabulous time. Jack and I connected on more than just a sexual level. We had more in common that I would have guessed. We just clicked. I’ve never laughed and orgasmed so much in two short days.

But when I left for Los Angeles, and even more so when I got home, I became confused and scared. What did our new relationship mean? Was I special or just another conquest for him? Would he ever want to see me again? How can I really ask him to consider me a part of his life when we live across the country and he has so many other partners?

Sir and I talked about my distress. And he mentioned something that really made me step back for a moment. He said “society leads women to believe that to be successful in a relationship they have to ‘land’ a man. There has to be commitment solidified, especially if sex is involved”. At first I wanted to argue with him, but in the case of my family and community, he was right. And I think that’s why I couldn’t help feeling like I failed with Jack.

Society was telling me that Jack should have been falling all over himself to propose to me. Telling me that our sex was the best he ever day. Which, a) he’s happily married, and b) if he told me I was the best sex I probably wouldn’t have believed him anyway. In order for it to have been a societal success he would have promised me something (I’m not even sure I understand what that would have had to have been).

But all relationships don’t fit into this fairy tale mold. Open relationships are fluid. People can have an enormous impact on your life and you may only see them a few times a year. Just because Jack cannot be a physical presence in my life everyday doesn’t mean that he isn’t special. And it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care about me. We just have to find a way to rework those ‘traditional’ perimeters of what we are to each other.

More importantly, however, I need to let go of these assumptions about what we can and cannot be. Labels have always bothered me, but I do hate it when I don’t understand where I stand with someone. Society would have enough trouble accepting my married with a lover status. Trying to find a definition of what being a ‘lover’ means outside of cheating is impossible.

Jack and I had a wonderful time. I also enjoyed the time spent with Jill in the evenings. Jack and I consider each other lovers and I’m sure we will find a way to see each other again. I’m going to try my best to leave it at that and not pressure him for more or demand less from myself. Society, and my local community, doesn’t know anything about kink life anyway. He can be my lover that no one needs to know about besides my husband. Because honestly, it’s none of their business anyway.

Revelations Summarized

With Sir and I opening up our marriage and my recent trip to California (if you haven’t read my recap posts, you should, they’re hot) I’ve been emotionally confused lately. It’s just a lot to wrap my head around, apparently. Poly, open, non-monogamous keep flying through my head with everything I’ve experienced mixed in. So far it’s all positive, which is good. But there is so much societal crap to ignore and labels to understand that I’m still just starting to sift through it.

Submission, Who Knew?

The one thing that really shocked me was how much of a submissive I really am. I know that seems silly as that is what this entire blog is about, but it was. I guess I had an idea that I was only submissive because of Sir. That that was why my other ‘loan’ experience didn’t work out so well. Apparently that may not have been all me.

It was one of the first things that I talked to Sir about after I said goodbye to Jack at the train station. How almost unsteady I was being pampered and spoiled. Being told that I feel amazing and I look hot aren’t usually the words being spoken to me during sex. Without an order following it, I’m sure I looked downright confused as Jack and I played. Having that focus and attention was quite heady. A large part of my continued arousal was due to his positive response to my body and my sexuality. Sir decided that Jack would be his perfect wing man. He could play with and abuse me and then send me to Jack for aftercare. Honestly, I wouldn’t have a problem with that at all. I would just have to live closer so I could get aftercare on a more regular basis.

For those keeping score

My ‘slept-with’ count has gone from 4 to 6. And I have crossed the threshold of my hetero-flexibility by having my first sexual interaction with a woman.

It was stressful.

Not because of anything that she did, I just didn’t want to fuck it up. Especially as the night before I had watched her husband fuck her and make her cum hard, repeatedly. It’s a tough act to follow. I think I was more nervous than anything. Not about her body (which was lovely) or going down on her (which was great). I think it was just performance anxiety. Like with the blow job, you want to do your best work.

The last thing I wanted was for her to think that I shouldn’t come back because I couldn’t please her. Not that she would say that, because she’s a lovely person, but still. I didn’t want her to regret my coming. Sir had also asked for video proof of this event, which Jack was more than happy to oblige. So there is a near ten minute video and several photos that I’m sure Jack and Sir will review more than once. Hell, I’ll probably watch it a few times too. 🙂

What ‘poly’ means to me

This vacation has got me thinking a lot more about poly and what I would want from a secondary partner. And honestly, it might not be kink. The idea of having a non-BDSM partner as a secondary, or even a few non-kinky lovers sounds kind of good. It feels weird to think that. But having my boots taken off for me and my legs kissed
felt really good. Going on ostensibly what could be considered a date (in this case just a break between rounds of sex) was amazing. And getting to chat in the car in traffic, try a new restaurant or cuisine, and just talk about anything was nice.

I love doing that with Sir too, but we have a different dynamic, even when we are one a date.  Our conversations are ruled, generally, by our responsibilities. We will talk movies and politics on occasion. But work, family, and the kids rule a typical evening out. I think it was just refreshing to meet and be able to talk religion and politics with someone other than Sir that has similar views. I’m more than happy to have a debate type conversation from time to time, but having someone on the same wavelength feels good too. Looking at more of a pet relationship rather than a Dom dynamic. Someone to pamper me and say how pretty I am. I would be Sir’s slut and my second’s insatiable princess. Spoiled and cared for.

And notice how I just say ‘second’ once. The idea of having multiple partners to balance and maintain seems overwhelming at best. I just don’t see myself being able to handle that kind of open relationship. I can, however, see myself falling hard for one or maybe someday even two other people. Much more a poly-amorous set up than anything casual.

Needing a label I do not want

Sir was recently trying to set up a date.* I’m really not sure how to feel about it. I’m obviously worried about him finding someone. And I’m jealous as Jack lives so far away. But it is making me think about how I classify myself. The last few days Sir and I have been talking about how we are in a ‘BDSM Poly-Open’ relationship. I
just don’t know how to label, but I don’t know if that’s simply because I don’t like labels. I want Jack to be my secondary. But I think I would take it personally if he didn’t classify me the same way.

I just don’t know what certain labels mean. Is there an expectation of gifts for the holidays? Can you have multiple secondaries?  As much as I hate labels I keep searching for them. These past few days have brought out a lot of emotional pull from me. I think I just need to remember that Jack has done nothing to make me question the genuineness of what he says.

The pain of cravings

He treats me differently than Sir. Not that one is right or wrong. Each is perfect for them and both make me feel amazing. Sir is my dom and my husband. He is supportive, understanding, and always knows what I need. Sir calls Jack my ‘aftercare’. He flatters me, cuddles me, and makes me laugh. We have so much in common
that we talk about almost anything, and our mutual appreciation for sarcasm makes us quite the pair.

Neither is a replacement for the other. But that also creates problems as I crave both. I think that this confusion and odd overwhelming is normal. I’ve started reading a lot and continued conversation and support from both Sir and Jack has helped. I just want to make sure I’m there for them as well. However, I don’t want to ask for more than either can give and end up hurt. It’s a balance that I haven’t quite reached yet. But they are worth the effort. As, I hope, am I.

**Sir has since decided to hold off as far as actively looking for a play partner goes. I think once his business is up and running he will feel in a better place about it. But he supports me and my relationships outside of him.

A Crazy Week

This week has been emotionally and physically exhausting. The kids went to grandma’s house on Friday night and all Sir and I could think about was a good night’s sleep.

A dear friend found out his daughter was sexually assaulted by someone they knew.

All you can do is try and be supportive. I started to get upset with him when he indicated that she might not pursue prosecution. But, after reflecting, that really wasn’t fair of me. I have never been through such a horrific experience, and it’s not my place to judge. I just wish I could do more for their family as they struggle with this tragic event.

Took on a big grant project at work.

Much more positive than above, but still overwhelming. I am really looking forward to the challenge and showing my boss that I am the amazing person they thought I was when they hired me. And it’s a long term thing. The complete project isn’t due until January, but it will take a lot of piece meal work whenever I get a moment. Usually my desk is covered with requests and filings, so finding extra time may be tough. But the rewards could be worth it if I can get us a chunk of money next year, so fingers crossed.

2yo has decided that sleep is for the weak.

It’s been about a week and a half now. I’m not sure why, but 4:30, or 5:00 if we are lucky, has become his new morning. Which he chooses to share with Sir and I by coming into our room and poking Sir in the stomach. I don’t think it is really sustainable as we are both grumpy and he is falling asleep before lunch at school. Running around at night isn’t helping though, so more devious tactics may be required.

Sir talked to his doctor about his libido and is changing his meds.

Neither of us are getting ahead of ourselves with high expectations. We’ll see if he notices a difference in the next few weeks. I feel bad as I am afraid that he just got tired of me whinging on here. But at the same time, if it helps, I don’t think either of us will be complaining.

Had my STI screening done before I go to California next week.

Everything came back negative, but it was still a tense few days. I don’t know why, but testing like that always freaks me out. Neither Sir nor I have had an symptoms, it was just a formality really so I could take paperwork with me. The last thing I want is for my friends to feel uncomfortable. And the clinic was actually very nice. I was worried they would be judgmental as I numbered partners, but they were informative and polite.

Pinched a nerve in my neck which incapacitated me for several days.

And, the reason I haven’t written much this week is that I pinched a nerve. I wrote a bit about it on Thursday, but it continued to get worse. On Friday, while the kids were at grandma’s and we were supposed to be enjoying a sexy evening along, we ended up at Urgent Care. They prescribed some muscle relaxers and sent me home. After a good night’s sleep I felt a lot better, now it’s mostly a light soreness. But last week was a mess of unproductive evenings.

Luckily, even with everything going on, yesterday was amazing. We had some good family time and I got a lot done. Business stuff and house cleaning got caught up and Sir and I were even able to connect. Hopefully, this week before I go to California we will be able to focus on each other and really have some time together. I want to ensure that we are in a good, solid place before I leave him with the kids for a week so I can have a sexual tryst. His support and mutual excitement for me has been amazing, but connecting with him before I go and after I get back will be the real test to see if this will ever happen again.

Lick Me Suck Me Fuck Me

Lick me suck me fuck me

As I walk in through the door,

Lick me suck me fuck me

Until I beg and plead for more.

Lick me suck me fuck me

As I kneel down at your feet,

Lick me suck me fuck me

Make me feel cherished and complete.

~

Kiss me beat me eat me

Watch me squirm against the rope,

Kiss me beat me eat me

Your grin smothers all my hope.

Kiss me beat me eat me

Say I’ve earned my pleasure,

Kiss me beat me eat me

Your smile is something I treasure.

~

Whip me loan me own me

As I scream out for your touch,

Whip me loan me own me

You can never ask too much.

Whip me loan me own me

I am a slut at your command,

Whip me loan me own me

I am a groupie to your band.

~

Love me squeeze me please me

We are a perfect match,

Love me squeeze me please me

We love to have others watch.

Love me squeeze me please me

I love you more than I can say,

Love me squeeze me please me

I am heading up to play.

Masturbation Monday logo

Bad Math

Sir’s low sex drive + My horny, submissive personality = Me feeling very inadequate.

We haven’t had sex in….I actually can’t remember the last time we had sex. I’ve had a few Doxy orgasms with and without his help over the last few days, but that’s been it. And that last night I remember giving him oral he had to look at Tumblr the whole time.

Sir’s dependency on visual stimulation to keep his erection = Me having serious self-esteem problems.

I just feel like I should something. Don’t get me wrong. I get that I’m not some big sexual prize. My tits are pretty great, and I have some skills sucking cock, but that’ about it. I’m not sure why, but I guess part of me thought that BDSM was going to be my sexy ticket for life awhile. I could play out my fantasies and maintain my high sex drive. And he could try out all of the porn he liked and see how sadistic he could be. Now obviously that was a pipe dream, but that doesn’t mean I should let things continue like this without doing something.

My insatiable sex drive + His guilt over not craving sex as much as me = Me wanting to want sex less and resenting myself when I don’t.

Any one who has ever tried this knows how hard it is. I don’t want to crave sex. And when I do, not only do I get upset about it, but the longer I go without the grumpier I get. It’s a vicious cycle. The biggest thing is that I don’t want to be upset with him. It’s not his fault and he feels bad enough about it. However, my attempts to be understanding have only left me to direct all my frustration and confusion back on myself.

My sexually frustrated, low self-esteem state = Crappy writing from me + A probably unwise level of expectation for my upcoming trip to California.

My writing on here lately has just gotten whiny. I don’t judge any of you that I have given up on the sexy scenes I used to post. It’s hard to write without inspiration and writing my fantasies when I’m not sure they will ever happen just makes me depressed. I even took a few days off last week in the hopes that I could come up with something that wouldn’t offend you all. The best I could come up with was how much I am focusing and getting nervous about this vacation. And now I’m starting to worry that me talking it about it is upsetting Sir, which probably is doing his sex drive even more damage.

Today’s Moral = I really hope you’re not reading this as any sort of advice column.

I am just a mess of a submissive trying to make any portion of this dynamic work. I keep hoping from a fake disaster to a real one and back again. Normally I wouldn’t classify myself as any sort of drama queen, but BDSM has shone new lights on all parts of my personality, so who knows. In any case, I hope that we can figure something out to reach a happy medium for us. A sex drive balance or a pathway to other partners that includes him as well.

I’m just tired of all this bad math.

Pain in Blood

Blood ran down my leg. I could feel it as I sprinted up the stairs to our tiny bathroom. I had excused myself without raising alarm, I just hoped that no one noticed how quickly I backed out of the room.

“No, no, no!” I cried. I sat on the toilet and wept silent tears. My parents were downstairs. They couldn’t know. At least they were getting ready to leave. I put on a maxi-pad that made me feel like a toddler with a diaper. Then I went down the hall to the bedroom to take off my skirt and put on a pair of much more comfortable sweatpants. My mom would notice the change of clothes, but I was hoping she would think I was just in for the day. My father wouldn’t notice at all.

I checked the mirror for evidence of my crying. My eyes were a bit puffy, but the redness was gone. When I got back to the dining room everyone had gotten some coffee and the table had been cleared.

He saw my face and tilted his head in that adorable way he always does to ask if I was alright. He squeezed my shoulder as he walked passed. I shook my head, but put on a weak smile to let him know we would talk later.

And later took forever.

My parents wanted to chat about Thanksgiving plans and anything else I could care less about in that moment. I sipped my coffee as my stomach cramped, though I wasn’t sure it was emotional or physically caused. The pain was real enough. After an hour I was near ready to beg them to go.

I don’t know how, but I think he knew. Not just that something was wrong, but what the pain behind my fake smile meant. He cleared the coffee and began collecting coats and bags.

‘You guys have a long drive…they are calling for snow later this afternoon.’ He knew exactly what to say to get them out the door.

As soon as the car pulled out of the drive I curled into a ball on the couch and released all the pain I had been holding in for over an hour. He sat down next to me and pulled me into his lap. I wailed into his shirt. He held me and rubbed my back. When I ran out of tears he sat me up and walked out of the room. I just stared into the distance, trying to focus on anything in the living room without success.  My eyes may have been too swollen, but mostly I think I just didn’t care anymore. He returned a few moments later with a blanket. Putting his feet up on the couch he pulled me into him. I lay down against this chest as he pulled the blanket around me.

“Today will be over soon. Tomorrow will be better. And we have plenty of time to make our family.” He produced a glass of water and some pain medication for me to take. Then he tucked me up under this chin. He rubbed my back until I fell asleep against him, warm and safe.

I just had to keep telling myself, ‘It’s just blood, it’s only blood’.

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings

 

**I’m sorry if this was upsetting or a trigger for anyone’s bad experience. This was one of the worst days of my life. And without Sir, it would have been unbearable. Sometimes sexy is providing support and care; especially in the those moments when sex is the furthest thing from your mind.**