pretty boring day until they came over.
I was embarassed at the house, but Master wasn't, so... IDK . I managed to pick up a bit before they came over the only bad part was the kitchen. we had to wash dishes before Major could cook so we could eat (he made alfredo with chicken bites and pasta) and the submissive helped me, she rinsed and dried the dishes. I washed. It felt comforting to wash. After being in Position Five the other day (I dont remember how long ago it was) I didn't even notice until the dishes, but that feeling of rebellion just left me. I was so content to serve and please and prepare for my Master, it was very uplifting. I'm doing dishes now, too. Waiting for them to soak as I blog. 3rd time doing dishes in 2 days. (Didn't finish them yet, keep going back and doing the days, plus a few more) I made a big breakfast, then we went out immediately after, then Master did stir-fry, (that's when I was in Five a long time) and that pretty much explains all the huge load of dishes to wash.
Master talked about a lot of things that it takes to be a good dom, argued with the submissive because she's a bit stubborn sometimes, and then we ate, and then they started showing (downstairs) all the toys for playing. the sub immediately got excited and started basically begging to be played with, said she hadn't played with anyone in "months!" and said she wanted major to help her bf/dom beat her.
I wanted to play, too. I know it wasn't about me, and this was her training her dom day, but I hate seeing all those toys laid out and knowing that none of them will be used on me. I was able to pull Danny for most of it, but toward the end of her scene (omfg it was so long, I just wanted it to be over after like the 3rd time she yellowed) I ended up switching back out. we all helped with the aftercare, water, chocolate, conversation, cuddles, whatever. and then they just wouldn't leave. it took like 2 hours after the scene endd to get them out of the basement and into their car (that's terrible of me, but they kept saying they had to go because of time, and they just wouldn't). I asked Master if He'd been playing with me (He hit me a few times hard enough to leave instant marks) to get me into the mind to play, or if He was just trying to help me cope. He said no I can't play, I have work tomorrow. I went on to bed after a few half-hearted tries at getting Him to come with me (the tv was on, so I knew He'd probably want to sit for a while. it helps Him calm down at night, and I don't blame Him).
I didn't really go to bed, just.. toward bed. I heard Major complain about how much his back was hurting after the scene, and it decimated me to think about how long it would be til he felt good enough to scene or play again. It wasn't just that, that just seemed to trigger a few things, and then I somehow snowballed. I cleaned the bedroom with a vengeance, gathering 4 huge tubs of dirty laundry. I sorted that, and started a new load of laundry in the wash. I made His bed, and then I'd run out of things to do, and I was still short of breath and a little dizzy. I went to the formal living room and gathered up a sketchbook, my pencils, and a purse with some markers and pens in it. I went back to the bedroom and sharpened all the pencils in the purse and then started drawing. After my first picture, I wrote lines, that I wouldn't write on myself. Then I wrote all the words I wanted to write on myself, and crumpled it up and threw it away. I had a headache by now and wanted to cut and have pain. I kept thinking that He would be in any minute to come to bed. (He was talking to Major a lot by the bedroom door while I drew) Then I colored a whole page solid with pencil for Him. Then I did another picture, I wanted to cut so badly. It was red and black marker, and then the black marker died, so I switched to a dark-leaded 6B pencil to finish the lines. He came in before I finished, but not by much.
He helped me so much! I didn't even want to talk, and I cried so much it leaked down both sides of my face into my ears. He finally got me talking, and then looked at the notebook and stuff. He asked if I'd written or drawn on myself, if I'd cut. I said no, and He told em He was so proud of me! I was hurting and didn't understand how, because I felt like I shouldn't even have let myself want to cut that badly. I get it now, I think. Last night was the worst I've wanted to cut in months. Probably over a year. My head hurt, and I wanted pain, to cut, to drink until was too drunk to move, or to take one of His pain pills to knock me out. But I didn't do any of that. I drew until he could help me. I didn't go get Him, but He understood. It's not an easy thing to do when we have guests, and I thought He'd be in anytime.
He fucked me. He told me what I was feeling didn't matter, or affect anything. It was unimportant. He said He would take what He wanted from me whether I wanted Him to or not. He made me call Him Master. And then the dull glassy feeling started to go away. I started to enjoy the sex. It was really good sex. it was exactly what I needed. I was just a hole, replaceable. Honored with Him, choosing me. And it hurt so good. And I sprayed all over His pillow!!! he put it under my back and fucked me on my bed until our heads were almost touching the wall (the mattress scooted). And then He fucked me more (I thought until He got off, but no). He didn't come. it was all for my benefit. and it fixed me. i was content. I am content. and happy to serve my Master. And really, if the sex is like that, I don't need to scene for a while.
I dreamed of anal. He made me want to give Him anal, but my stomach started cramping as soon as He started fingering my ass. It was only while something was in my ass, not after.
I slept in bed with Him, after rubbing His head and back for as long as I could before passing out.
I dreamed I'd got out of His bed into mine, fell asleep, couldn't sleep, got back in bed with Him - but I know I didn't.
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