A New Month

It is February finally; a brand new month. January, if I may be blunt, sucked. For all of us.

Sometimes, the soul of slavery is in simply waiting. Some of you will understand what I mean when I say that one of the tougher things to learn (and remember) is that it isn't "all about me." T and I both have kept ourselves focused on what was needed to make things easier for Himself as He has struggled to stay on top of all the many demands pulling Him every which way. It has seemed to both of us that what has been asked of Him in these last weeks has just been beyond the power of any human person to sustain -- and so we have tried to be there and anticipate and support and take care and not make things any more difficult or demanding.

Still, I do think it is important for Him to know that, when time and circumstances allow it, I still want Him and need Him and will be happy to be back in THAT place with and for Him again. I want to find a way to let Him know -- without there being any sense of demand to it, that I am not "glad" to have circumstances be such that the SM part of our lives has to be put on hold. Hence, a couple of weeks ago (or maybe a bit more) I told Him that I needed Him to put me "on His calendar... " because I was in need of His hands and His touch. That "appointment" and what it portended has been there between us ever since, although we've not spoken about it at all.

This morning, at last, we had an hour or two when we were able to erase some of the longing and hunger we've been living with for a long while. I can't give you much in the way of details. I've never been good at that anyway, but I've gotten even worse lately. Partly, that's because I've gotten so thin skinned - literally. Everything seems incredibly heavy and brutal on my fragile skin, that I can't distinguish the different implements as I used to do. I know there was some caning involved -- that I CAN still pick out. I know that He used the LeatherThorn Paddle, partly because I think I can pick that one, and because He likes to use it since it has a heavy wallop but doesn't tend to cause me to bleed as heavily as some of the others. I saw the heavier of the wooden Hanson paddles with the holes in it, and I know that He had the lighter one at the end... And I also saw the heavy rubber strap out. Did He use all of them? I can't truthfully say. All I know is that the hunger that had burned for so many weeks is less tonight. Not gone. Less.

Spanking and fucking. Nothing fancy. No costumes or role plays. Just simple and elemental and primal. This is, for us, a thing we miss so very much when it is out of our reach for whatever reason for long stretches. It feels good to be back into familiar territory and regions.

swan