On his way home Wednesday, Master sent me some not-entirely-safe-for-work Instagram posts. They’re not NSFW, but they’re not entirely innocent either.
They’re implied.
Two posts down and my mind starts ticking over. All of this sex talk makes me want sex.
So I told Master Levi. See now I just want you to rearrange my insides when you get home x
And when he got home, that’s exactly what Master did. Well, kinda.
For one, I was surprised that Master was up for sex – he’s usually too tired after work.
For two, now I wasn’t so sure even I wanted sex – I wasn’t expecting him to take me up on it!
But I’m not one to back down, so if Master was going to challenge me to deliver then I’d just have to find it.
We did have a slight breakdown in communication again, which led to an… unfortunate situation for me.
Good heavens, there is no recovering from sucking cock with your knickers around your ankles. None.
What made it worse was that, despite my plight, I couldn’t help but think of my free-use friends. I hated that this moment wetted me and yet, maybe just here, I finally understood the appeal.
Wednesday evening and with my modesty redeemed, I installed a splash guard on our bathtub. I thought it would be fairly straightforward, but because of the bathroom unit in the way, the area actually proves quite difficult to reach. Typical.
Guard secured and seal sealed, I left it to cure overnight.
Thursday morning, Valkyries and I are still in our Admiral/Cadet dialect.
So this is a thing we’re really doing now? Fine.
I say it like it’s a bad thing, but it’s not really – it’s just how Valkyries and I are now. He challenges me and I challenge him. It’s how and why this works.
Valkyries has a task for me as punishment for falling asleep on him. I often have things I have to do around the home, but it’s been a while since I was given something to do in my submission.
Valkyries asks if I have a wooden spoon or spatula, and I confirm I do. It’s silicone though, not wood.
The next time I masturbate, Valkyries wants me to spank my clit with it.
Sensing the spatula might be a little big and heavy for the job, I ask for some time to find something more suitable. Something smaller and more precise, like a silicone jar scraper. Valkyries agrees.
So, I acquired a three pack of silicone jar scrapers from Amazon, but then I had to wonder: how the hell does one explain away the need for a kitchen utensil in the bedroom?
Friday morning and filled with my blue glass spiral dildo (as instructed), I went on my little “mission”. With my clit exposed and my silicone scraper acquired, I gave my clit its first, gentle tap.
I only needed to do it once to know that it’s not for me; the “pleasure” that Valkyries thought I’d feel was not present in this session anymore. In fact, I felt quite emotional, and even kind of violated.
So I ended my little masturbation session and huddled myself up into a ball. The worst part was, Valkyries wasn’t even awake yet.
I need the Admiral right now.
Finally reunited with my beloved Admiral, we were able to talk about what had happened. Because sometimes, BDSM is not about the bondage, the whips and chains — sometimes it’s about just being together.
Valkyries is not mad or disappointed in me for failing my “mission”, and I think that speaks volumes for who he is. He’s not worried that I didn’t spank my clit five times like he instructed; he’s worried that attempting to do so upset me.
I did open up quite a bit to Valkyries about the comparisons I make between other submissives and myself, and the way others have also compared me. I’m not a spanko, a sex slave or even a compliant “good girl”, I’m just… me.
Yet, even in spite of that, and even if I’ve told both of my partners that they could have “good girl” submissives, neither of them want them. They don’t want a “good girl” – they both enjoy the challenge I bring.
Unfortunately, I had overnight oats for breakfast on Friday morning, and by bedtime Friday, I was violently ill. I did stay up and watch Strange Magic with Master Levi, though I can’t say he’s a fan.
In fact, he kind of had the same complaint that I did the first time I watched it:
“Is there any dialect in this, or is it all singing?” Master asks. I pouted at him – someone’s being grumpy like the Bog King.
“It’ll grow on you,” I say with a smile.
Master did pass out for about ten minutes. When he wakes, the main protagonist, Marianne, is singing with the Bog King. Master looks confused.
“What have I missed?” he asks, “they’re singing together now.” I giggle.
“Shall I rewind it for you?” I offer. Master politely declines.
I spent all of Saturday in bed, and much to my annoyance: I had plans for a productive day of gardening, but the fatigue and residual vertigo of the night before had other ideas. I did manage to keep down two cups of tea, a couple of biscuits and a slice of toast though, supported by the occasional Rennie, so that’s progress. I also helped my Mum with a lodger issue too, though that’s all I can say about that on my blog.
Valkyries and I did fall into some more of our silliness: he said that I know best, and jokingly, I said that I would screenshot that moment. Valkyries said to be sure to also include the question that it relates to, and I said that he’s “not my boss”: I don’t have to do as he says.
So Valkyries said that the same applies to me: I’m not his boss either. I sensed a trap here: I know Domkind and how they think and work. This is how we subkind end up pleading and making a case that we had absolutely no intention of making!
Valkyries played with my mind; he said that this sense of a “trap” was related to my gastrointestinal issues that I was facing and nothing at all to do with him. I know that he’s mindfucking me, and worse, I let him.
I know that I should have resisted him, but right here, I’m too vulnerable and weak to resist. Right here, I’ve given in. To pleasure. To surrender. To possibly the nicest thing I’ve had in the past few hours.
The man has turned my brain into his own personal pile of Playdoh, and somehow, it feels… nice?
I did sleep soundly for a good eight hours, and I’m up today, still slightly sore in the abdominal walls but largely functioning again. I’ve had tea and biscuits, and a chocolate, which felt daring but very much desired. I’ve finally got my appetite back, along with the energy and willpower to do a few things.
Ahh yes, the Cadet is back. Back active, and reporting for duty.
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Until next time!
Stay safe & have fun,
If you’ve made it this far, congratulations, you’re now emotionally invested. Go ahead and worship me properly. My writing chocolate won’t buy itself, you know? 😉
