Tomorrow is the little ones third birthday, and today we hosted a party, complete with balloons, strawberrycake and most importantly, gifts. Little S was mostly interested in the gifts, and playing with grandma. I think she had a good time. I'm exhausted, but must say it went pretty well, actually.
She got face-colors, so now she is painted as a tiger, and the she let loose with the brush on me and Mistress, and our faces has all the colors of the rainbow on them. According to little S I'm a butterfly and Mistress is a mouse. I don't think anyone but her can see that, though.
Depressed slut is depressed, but a bit better now. SSRI is good stuff. Oh, and vacation. I'm dreading the fall, though, and the start of school and job and pre-school. And housework and routine and stress and demands and all the things that made me sick in the first place.
But a little part of me is looking forward to it, too. It's not all bad. I'm fortunate enough to study something I'm genuinely interested in, that does count for something. And I know a lot more now about what is good and bad for me than I did before this summer. It doesn't have to go straight to hell, actually. I hope.
Oh, and yesterday was our five-year-old wedding anniversary. We've been married for five years! Yey us!
Aug 19, 2012
Aug 10, 2012
At medieval week
We're on one of the most beuatiful places I know, the town of Visby on the island of Gotland in the Baltic Sea. It's Medieval Week, a yearly event that gathers thousands of people, including most of my and Mistress' friends. I haven't been here for five years, and it's still magical.
The old part of town is surrounded by a city wall, built around the thirtenth century, and the surrounded area has countless ruins, churches and medieval buildings, and the streets have the same crazy layouts that all medieval cities had - the go in every direction, and are very narrow.
We haven't been all that much in medieval garb ourselves, it's been raining and we've been doing other stuff too. But tonight me and Mistress are going to a show, dressed up, and tomorrow we'll be at the market place and other event-related things all day. It's not the same to be here with a little kid, not to mention sharing a flat with my mother, but it's still good.
And it's been a great way to handle the depression. I haven't been this active in ages, and the somber thoughts are all but gone. They're there when I wake up, but then I get thrown into such a lot of fun activities that I get distracted. The city wall, the ocean, the smells and sounds, the people, and my family - it all makes me happy.
And two days ago we went to an ale-house in a medieval cellar after little S hade fallen asleep, and had some beer with a couple of friends, and listened to live musicians playing scabrous music, and I haven't laughed like that in a year or so. The day after I had a hangover, but I was still actually happier and less tired than I've been all summer. A hangover is apparently nothing compared to the continous dreariness of depression and fatigue.
With mother in the same apartment, everything kinky or remotely sexual or looking like power excange is kept to a minimum. But I'm hers as much as always, and I feel that in my heart every day.
The old part of town is surrounded by a city wall, built around the thirtenth century, and the surrounded area has countless ruins, churches and medieval buildings, and the streets have the same crazy layouts that all medieval cities had - the go in every direction, and are very narrow.
We haven't been all that much in medieval garb ourselves, it's been raining and we've been doing other stuff too. But tonight me and Mistress are going to a show, dressed up, and tomorrow we'll be at the market place and other event-related things all day. It's not the same to be here with a little kid, not to mention sharing a flat with my mother, but it's still good.
And it's been a great way to handle the depression. I haven't been this active in ages, and the somber thoughts are all but gone. They're there when I wake up, but then I get thrown into such a lot of fun activities that I get distracted. The city wall, the ocean, the smells and sounds, the people, and my family - it all makes me happy.
And two days ago we went to an ale-house in a medieval cellar after little S hade fallen asleep, and had some beer with a couple of friends, and listened to live musicians playing scabrous music, and I haven't laughed like that in a year or so. The day after I had a hangover, but I was still actually happier and less tired than I've been all summer. A hangover is apparently nothing compared to the continous dreariness of depression and fatigue.
With mother in the same apartment, everything kinky or remotely sexual or looking like power excange is kept to a minimum. But I'm hers as much as always, and I feel that in my heart every day.
Aug 5, 2012
Making me bleed
The day before yesterday, when little S had gone to sleep, I was out in the kitchen sewing. Mistress came out to me, and told me to finish what I was doing, and then report to her. I finished that part of my project and went to the bedroom. She was laying on the bed reading, and when I stepped in, she told me to undress and get down on the bed.
The thing is, written like this, it sound so somber, so dangerous, stern. In actualitie, it's not. It's warm and cute and full of laughter. There's no doubt that she's the boss and that I will obey her, and that is easy to convey in writing. The underlaying love and humor and general warmth is harder to get through. But it's there, always.
She told me that she was going to give me a hundred strokes with the rattan, in segments of 25; the first ones easy, and then harder and harder. And then, if she felt like it, she would just continue to beat me. "But I think I'll have to restrain you first" she said, and I answered "Yes please Mistress!". It's so much easier and less scary to be beaten when I'm bound up, especially if it's hard.
And when I was laying naked and chained to the bed, she proceeded to beat me on the ass with the rattan, and I breathed in to the pillow and tried not to move. At the end the strokes came hard and fast, and eventually she switched to the smaller rattan and just kept on hitting. By then I was gone, floating on the pain, having no desire for it to ever stop. And then, after a particular stroke, she said "Finally!", and put down the rattan. She turned me around and fucked me until we both came.
Afterwards, on her arm, I asked what the "Finally!" had been all about. "Well" she answered "I wanted to make you bleed, so I beat you until you did. I took awhile, though, and I wanted to do other stuff too." I nodded, and sighed happily.
There's something in her very calculated, deliberat way of handling me that just makes my heart melt. A true romantic!
The thing is, written like this, it sound so somber, so dangerous, stern. In actualitie, it's not. It's warm and cute and full of laughter. There's no doubt that she's the boss and that I will obey her, and that is easy to convey in writing. The underlaying love and humor and general warmth is harder to get through. But it's there, always.
She told me that she was going to give me a hundred strokes with the rattan, in segments of 25; the first ones easy, and then harder and harder. And then, if she felt like it, she would just continue to beat me. "But I think I'll have to restrain you first" she said, and I answered "Yes please Mistress!". It's so much easier and less scary to be beaten when I'm bound up, especially if it's hard.
And when I was laying naked and chained to the bed, she proceeded to beat me on the ass with the rattan, and I breathed in to the pillow and tried not to move. At the end the strokes came hard and fast, and eventually she switched to the smaller rattan and just kept on hitting. By then I was gone, floating on the pain, having no desire for it to ever stop. And then, after a particular stroke, she said "Finally!", and put down the rattan. She turned me around and fucked me until we both came.
Afterwards, on her arm, I asked what the "Finally!" had been all about. "Well" she answered "I wanted to make you bleed, so I beat you until you did. I took awhile, though, and I wanted to do other stuff too." I nodded, and sighed happily.
There's something in her very calculated, deliberat way of handling me that just makes my heart melt. A true romantic!
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