"I want to shove my cock down your throat till you cry. It's been to long...." Note my
"You can't beat me into happiness!" I squealed making a hasty retreat towards the fridge. It was an unfortunate choice of direction--there is no hidden escape route around the milk and over the eggs. He knows it too. So of course, He continued to advance
The aforementioned activities usually turn the day around in a good way, however...
He says the three words I never want to hear: "I'm scared too baby."
And I'm on the couch in tears wanting to crawl to Him and absolutely refusing to loose the inner war with myself and actually do it.
He had promised me the riding crop...I squirmed and insisted it was quite alright if He didn't keep His promises. He dismissed my claims with a growl "But you will think less of me if I don't keep my word."
"No really, I won't think less of you at all, not this time, I promise!" He never did find the riding crop...But He settled for that damnable wooden spoon.
I was whipped, clamped, fucked to tears, called a filthy whore, and told how loved, amazing, and precious I am.
All in all, for it's mid-day mess, yesterday ended quite happily.