I feel today’s post is going to be a bit shorter than some of my others, no thanks to my husband infecting me with whatever bugs he’s picked up from wherever he’s been. I don’t feel deathly, but I’ve definitely felt better. 

Two nights on the sofa probably isn’t helping me. 

Quite a few things have happened since I last wrote. I apologise for going AWOL, though it has taught me that maybe I don’t need to write everyday — a diary post every other day might be okay instead. I know that’s probably not what Addy wants to hear, but… he’ll survive 😉 

So speaking of, let’s go back there, then I’ll share my weekend. 

After my last post and everything that happened there, I’m pleased to say that Addy and I were able to work through it really well. I think there was some tension but it wasn’t really tension as most people know it; we both knew we needed to talk, but neither really knew how to talk without startling the other and putting them immediately on the defensive. 

It’s a problem Master and I face sometimes, too. Us sensitive folk can be lovely until a conversation is called for, then we’re immediately ready to respond. 

Addy said that I didn’t say he was proud of me for saying no to him, and I thought I’d sort of implied that I knew he would be (proud of me), but if it matters, then yes — Addy was proud of me for saying no to him. I know what matters to Addy and Daddy: my comfort and happiness more than anything, because if I’m not happy in my submission to them then I won’t want to submit to them, and then what would we have? 

I know, I’m spoilt! But lovingly and happily so. I’m such a lucky girl to be loved/shared by (and to lovingly submit to) two such wonderful gentlemen! 

Also Friday, I finally managed to sort everything for Master’s trip to Newcastle, so that’s now all booked up. The details of his trip and the itinerary, of course, shall remain private, but the damning part is that — thanks to a faux pas by yours truly — Master himself now knows every detail — including the surprise party I’d planned at ours to hand over the tickets for the stadium tour! Yes, I was very annoyed at myself! 

Saturday, and before heading out for the afternoon, I suggested to Addy that we take a look at the BDSM checklist. It’s not something we’ve done, but I felt like it might give us a baseline to work from — to understand one another’s kinky selves better.

Addy is very eager for the idea and I roll my eyes and shake my head. Of course he is! Typical Addy. 

Saturday I met Master’s uncle for the first time, who I’d not met before. I was nervous because, having done a quick flyby on Google StreetView, he lives in a rather nice detached house — I was rather worried he might be far more well to do than what we are.  

So I pulled myself together a classic look, polished my hair, and headed out. 

We walked the full two-kilometre distance, because for whatever insane reason I’d had, one of us thought that was a good idea — most of it was uphill. 

Despite my reservations, I could not have felt more welcome. Even if I’d never met them before, Master’s uncle and aunt find me a comfortable chair to sit on, then ply me with hot tea and chocolate biscuits. They take great interest in my stories: how I met Master Levi, my upbringing in a beekeeping family, and my tales of collecting swarms and extracting honey. 

So we would learn, they’ve had an extension built onto the property so that they can provide care for Master’s grandfather, now 95. He himself remembers me from our wedding and he chats to me warmly, says that I’ve “always been good” to Master. Master and his father — also present — both laugh; they both question what “being good” means in this context. I glower at them both, threaten my father-in-law with no fish and chips the next time he visits us and threaten to use my husband’s beer as a drain cleaner. Everyone laughs. 

We watched the first half of the England – Croatia game — 3-0 when we left — and we were considered good luck for the team. We were also told we would have to visit when England played during the World Cup. 

I’ve now told Master that he’s not allowed to ignore his uncle and aunty. Unlike some of his family members who make us feel judged, they are very warm to us. They (and now his grandfather) also only live five minutes drive away from us, so he has absolutely no excuse: he must see his grandfather more before it’s too late. 

I’ve since learned that he and his uncle have befriended one another on Facebook, so at least they’re talking more.

When we got home, Master said that he had some bad news: he had a sore throat and sensitive skin. Fuck! 

I don’t want to be ill again. With a now-no-so-surprise party to arrange for Friday, I can’t be ill again — I have too much to do!  

So I’ve been doing what I can to reduce my chances of contagion: antibacterial wipes, separate eating spaces, hand hygiene, face masks, improved ventilation. You name it. 

Despite that, it seems I’ve caught it anyway. My face feels sore, my throat feels sharp, my mind feels fuzzy, my nose is sniffly and my body yearns for sleep. Yay! 

I also know I’ve gone down with something, because this little fighter has got a bit (a really tiny bit, apparently!) less fight in her right now, and her willingness to accept being taken care of has gone up. 

Not fair! I thought biological warfare is a war crime? Daddy should be tried!

I told Addy that I’d caught it anyway. I also said, jokingly, that he should leave the medical tricorder where it was, then I wondered if there were ASMR Star Trek medical exam videos out there? 

Given everything I know of tingleheads and nerdom, it seemed like there must be. 

There are. Dozens of them, in fact. 

This morning Addy “prescribed” tea and toast under a warm blanket, with ASMR videos (and the occasional “bean flicking”, heaven forbid I should miss anything out again, Sir). I contested that ASMR is a “response” thing — you can’t prescribe that!

Big mistake. Shoulda just gone with it!

Addy admitted that he doesn’t know much about it, he also said he “needed to research it” more. I mewled and felt my skin tingle and my nipples harden. 

No no no! Please not that. Please not that!

I know what “research” means in Addy, the founder of Kinky Fuckery Science. “Research” means “research on you.”

And I don’t know how it would be to combine ASMR and BDSM; I’ve never “been there” before. A part of me thinks it would be incredible, all-encompassing and exceptionally heady, but then another part of me is well prepared for a “what the fuck are we doing?” moment.  

Watching ASMR videos and experiencing ASMR in private is one thing, but experiencing it for real and as part of a BDSM scene? That’s a whole new world for me.

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