Morning All Day

I don't know why it's so hard to start writing again after a slump, but it is.

I look and feel like I've aged ten years in the last three months. Seriously, it's ridiculous--I have bags under my eyes, and more grey hair than my mother in law. Alpha says that I stress too much. Can't imagine what would give him that impression...

It's not just in the morning anymore though...

I've been reminded though, that my perception of myself is not as important as his perception of me. Thank God.

Apparently, my assumption that he didn't read here anymore, was completely erroneous...He unkindly saw fit to mock my valid and honest assertion that I don't like pain. 'Cuz he's mean like that. And he likes it.

He reminds me though, that for all that I am and must do...

It takes many forms, and often it's the most basic and day to day things that obscure the deep and abiding beauty inherent in our M/s.

Surviving

I survived the bake sale, though I must admit to feeling especially picked on as the snow tumbled down out of a sky that was filled with sunlight the day before, and is now clear as bell with a nice warm summer breeze...
What is the normal take from a bake sale anyways. Any thoughts?

I feel like the kids activities have eaten my life, and a lack of medicine is working it's magic on what's left of me. Dunno, maybe I need to make more time to read blogs. Might sounds silly, but its nice to be reminded of what this whole thing is about. Pretty sure I've earned an F in slave 101.

I tried to point out that I was no good at this, and back out of our arrangement. For some odd reason he seemed to find my statements objectionably amusing...Apparently we have been doing this long enough that we are wayyyy past that. Who knew?

One Last March Question

I find myself missing it here...What can I say, life is a nuthouse, and I'm sick. Again. I swear a butterfly could sneeze a mile away and I'll be sick the next day. It's beyond ridiculous.

I have a couple of questions left from March, and I figured that I should probably get to them before next March rolls around. At the rate things are moving around here, anything is possible.

So with no further ado, from Sarah:

"Was Alpha the first person you had sex with after you were raped? Did he know about the assault ? Was it terrifying for you? How did Alpha handle it? Or were you so caught up in the moment that you were able to put that horrid experience aside, just for a bit?"

I think it's fair to point out that many of my issues regarding sex arose from a conglomeration of events, which started when I was much younger.

But onwards to the issue at hand!

Yes, Alpha was the first person I had sex with afterwards, and no, he did not know. My social circle of the time included the man, and I felt that the event was ambiguous enough that I could just call it sex. It was also my first time, so I didn't have a whole lot to compare it to.

While there have been times during which I have found sex to be terrifying, most of those times were further down the road.
I think that, to be afraid of something, one has to allow themselves to be connected to the moment and feel something. Anything. I didn't really have the sensation of fear because I didn't feel anything. For a long time, sex was just about checking out until it was over.

I hope that this adequately answers your question, Sarah.

Now I'm off to (almost) singlehandedly cook up a bake sale. Wish me luck!

Pain and Suffering

"I am going to beat you until you cry."

Eek.

"Really? You don't have to! Why??"

He shot me his most stern and unapologetic smile, "Yes, I do. Because you need it."

I used to think that I was a masochist. I'm not.
I hate pain, and for all intents and purposes, I am a terrible wuss when it comes to physical suffering.
I don't crave spanking, and all I have to read is, "He gave me 25 delicious strokes of the cane" and you've lost me. Seriously. Ten and I hate him and want to break the damn cane into a million pieces.

That said, there is something magical about pain.
Some people will tell you that the magic is all about those sneaky little endorphins. Others will say that pain brings transcendence of even such basic functioning. I say, why can't it be both?

Complaints and a Question

I still have a couple of questions left from Sarah, so I thought we would get to one of those before I start whining into my Cheerios.

"Many posts ago, you said something about Alpha making you run out to the car -naked in the snow - to get some makeup. Ummmm, where were your wacky neighbors? Do they not live close?"

Lol, valid question! Only one really lives close enough to see into our yard from his yard, and the nice thing about living somewhere where snow is suddenly a novelty, is that no one wants to go out in it. Luckily enough, I move like the wind when properly motivated.

As for the complaints...I will just say that every stack of utility shutoff notices can be made better by the realization that your accountant is an asshole.

 I'd start smoking again if I could afford it...

A Few More Keywords...

"Submissive women explained" Now there's a nice broad question that I would love to find the answer to...

"I dreamed with a black squirmy thing" ?!? Huh?

"Submissive than thou" That one came with the quotation marks and everything!

"Submissive hussy" Words cannot express how incredibly offended I am that this particular phrase got someone here...Seriously.

"Change bitch wife into a submissive." Wow...I'm not sure what the proper response is here...Good luck with that?

"Sanitary submissive." Well...It's better than submissive sanitarium, no?

"slap spit a wife your sex slave" I just don't...Umm...Ideas? Grammar lessons seem appropriate.

"Our sex sucks I want to be dominated." Omg. This is my favorite. Is it wrong that I burst out laughing when I read it? It was so honest and...Yea...

"arrogant submissive" It was in quotes already, I swear. *Sigh* I'm going to get a complex.

Proof...

I have proof that the universe is out to get me. Yep, solid proof!
I was "only" going to have to be in town 3 times a week, until a bunch of assholes complaining parents complained about the soccer practice schedule...Voila! I am now driving to town every other day until mid fucking May. And yes, that's a big deal.
Bastards.

It's not pretty...

In other news, I've been skimping on my on my medicine to make it last. Turns out that it's not nearly as effective in half doses. Who knew?
Higher pain levels are putting a damper on our interactions, and the hormonal fluctuations...Well...

He does not seem to agree

And people...Did I mention that it's people this and people that all the time? It's awful. I'm finding myself liking this approach more and more: