Home Alone

I smarted off, which in retrospect, wasn't actually that smart. That is how I ended up face down on the floor, with my ass in the air, waiting...It always seems like forever when one has been told to wait in a particular position. Yet, somehow, the act of waiting itself turns into an act of submission.

In all fairness, I was probably destined to end up that way at some point during the day. It is an inevitable turn of events when we have the house to ourselves. However, events to follow have not been as predictable.

I did not foresee making breakfast while chained to the stove
or spending the day in cuffs, heels, and clamps...

I would not have guessed that he would instruct me do put on eye makeup, heavy on the black, or that he would send me out to the car naked in a foot of snow to retrieve said makeup, pigtails flying in my desperate attempt to make it back to warmth.

I was a tad shocked when the camera made an appearance. He moved me this way and that, making the offhand comment that perhaps one or two of the photos would make their way onto the blog.
Say...uh, what...?

He says that sex and chains look good on me. Who am I to disagree. Gods know, they feel good. And the day is not yet done...