Getting hooked

When we went to bed last night we followed our usual ritual; I ask for permission before going into the bed and curling up on her arm. She lifted the leash that is fastened on the bed head to snap it on to my collar, but I was feeling a little bratty, a little restless and wistful so I made a move as if to avoid it. She recognised my mood, as she always does. Sometimes she ignores it, trusting in me to deal with it myself without becoming a nuisance to her. Sometimes she deals with it for me.

This time, she answered my unspoken plea for dominance and attention. As usual, as soon as I get the reaction I was fishing for I deeply regret it. Instead of hooking the leash to my collar, she signalled to me to be still, and fastened the snap hook in my nose. It's a strong and thin hook, and it hurt, a lot. My whole body tensed up, and it was almost impossible for me not to flail about.

She told me to be still, and went on reading her book. I stayed perfectly still on her arm, tense as a bowstring, intensely focused on the the pain in my nose. But as these things always go, eventually the panic and hyper-focus and impulse to get away drifted away. It was as it was, and I was going to endure what she choose to give me, and obey her. I started to relax, and at last I curled up to her, still hooked by my nose, and took my usual position by her side. As soon as she felt me giving in, she turned to me and unhooked me, putting the snap hook at the collar instead.

I curled up close to her, and the last thing I said before "good night" was "thank you, Mistress".

Getting what I need

I have a sleeping dog beside me. That always make sitting on the couch with the laptop even nicer than usual. I'm hungry and need coffee, however, so in a short while I'm going to disturb the peace.

I should be heading out by now, to see my thesis-colleague. But some things are much easier now than say a year ago. I got migraine or something similar yesterday, and gritted my teeth through the afternoon. When I finally got home, feeling sick and shaking with cold and with a headache that felt like something was trying to get out of my skull by sheer force, I could finally take some pills and go lay down. The pills helped quite nicely, but I felt weird all evening.

And when we were, eventually, curled up on the sofa together after little S had fallen asleep, I asked Mistress if I could meet a friend in the afternoon, after seeing with my colleague. And she looked at me with utter astonishment and said that I hadn't mention having made any dates, and that she had taken for granted that I would be at home resting after the migraine.

And do you know what I did? I said "yes, Mistress, you're right. I didn't think about that. I probably shouldn't go anywhere or do anything hard tomorrow. I'll text M. and tell her our meeting is cancelled." And then I did.

No angst. No anger. No drama. No "but I really really have to! We'll never make it otherwise! I'm sure I'm fine tomorrow and then I'll feel bad for ditching school when I feel okay!". None of that.

But now Mistress texted me with the word: "Coffee!" which means I should stop this and go take a cup and a sandwich.

-----------

Well, that was about the whole story. I'm lounging about at home after having dropped litte S off later than usual at the pre-school. I have a small task to do for school, and nothing else. And I even get to go see my friend I. and have a latte with her down town, since luckily Mistress agreed with me that taking a bike ride in the sun down to the river and chatting with a friend probably does more good than harm when it comes to stress and stress symptoms.

There's no point in itself in sitting at home - the important thing for me is to no be exposed to situations that demands more concentration or executive functioning of me than I have the capacity to give.No noise, no crowd, no waiting, no decisions. Everything has to be calm and ordered and not demand anything in particular of me.

It feels so damn good to be allowed, and to allow myself, to listen to my body and my brain and take care of myself and not overdo it. To not force ahead at full speed no matter what and assume that it's perfectly normal to feel like shit all the time. It's not normal, it's not expected of me, and I don't have to do it. I can just sit her, on my couch, with my dog, and let my attention wander as it wants. It's exactly what I need right now.

Oh, and coffee of course!

Back and forth

A few days ago Mistress finally took advantage of me, after a weeks hiatus. It started out with a notion from her that she wanted to cut me again, but when she unpacked the playthings I had put in the bag her plans developed a little. We were at her parents place, and I had packed an assortment of things, this and that which fit in the bag.

In the end, she tied me securely to the bed, blindfolded and gagged me, inserted a butt plug, and used both the tawse and the whip on me before creating a small piece of art on my shoulder blade with her knife. Or maybe she whipped me afterwards, I don't recall it exactly. I was mostly floating away.

Or rather, in the end I was floating. In the beginning I was scared, and stiff and a little apprehensive. We've had busy weeks for a while, not very much time for each other, and in order to not nag at her, I've stifled my own needs. And withdrawn. With withdrawal comes walls, and tearing them down, opening up again, hurts. It's scary and it hurts.

She commented on that afterwards too, that she felt something big was needed this time. It was. It was very much needed.

It's not until today, more or less, that I've fully realised how withdrawn I have become. I don't like it.