Back in my happy place
Amazing what a few hours of special attention can do for a woman. 🙂
Mr. D returned yesterday. I had been struggling with my own neediness vs. knowing he was doing a very kind thing, taking care of his ailing neighbor. I tried to keep the whining on my blog to a minimum. But he knew.
So, yesterday afternoon and evening spun slowly out into a kaleidoscope of treats — talking, spanking, bondage, cuddling, massage, watching a video, and comfort food at Jerry’s Deli. It was like having my own personal day spa, but they don’t have handsome tops at day spas. Not the ones I know of, anyway.
We talked for a long time, catching up. His neighbor is in 24-hour hospice now, and is shutting down. It is a matter of a few days now; very sad. Mr. D has been overseeing all aspects of his care, coordinating and communicating with his only family (a nephew), and I told him I admired him for it. I know I couldn’t do it. I don’t have that kind of unselfishness in me. He can feel very good about himself and his character over this.
We also discussed my recent blogs, and he was none too pleased about all my yammering about ageing. He said that I was ageless and beautiful (blushing), and he was going to make sure I understood that if he had to spank it into me until we’re both 85. “I don’t want to live that long,” I retorted. “OK, 75,” he replied. And it was about that time that we segued into some spanking action.
I know it had only been two weeks, but it had felt like at least a month if not more. I didn’t even have my usual period of giggling and sassing; I slipped right into the pleasure zone almost immediately, absorbing the sweet pain and rising up for more. And can I just say that his hand has gotten much stronger? I kiddingly told him that he should practice by slapping a brick, and I do believe he did it! Erica Scott, the Hand Toughener.
When we moved to the bedroom, he was delighted at my new panties, claiming them “Baskin-Robbins panties.” For those of you unfamiliar with the name, BR is an ice-cream store that’s been around forever; it’s also known as “31 Flavors.” Here are the colorful panties (with some added color by Mr. D):
And here’s one of the BR logo cups:
After a long spanking with his hand, Spanking Buddy and wooden paddle (ugh), Mr. D had me lie on the bed lengthwise, and he shackled my wrists and ankles to the four corners of the bed. Already fairly zoned out, I began to tremble all over. This was the moment of trust. The moment I knew, somewhere in my foggy brain, that once those wristlets and anklets clicked into place, I was completely helpless. That I had to let go and trust that I was in safe hands.
And I was. Absolutely 100%.
Doesn’t mean there wasn’t pain, though! 🙂
The good kind of pain, though, and the good kind of fear, bringing on a torrent of tears that I had to simply allow to flow into the pillow, because I could not wipe them away. Before I knew it, though, I was freed and gathered up into strong arms.
Later, he asked me what I’d like for dinner. I didn’t even have to think about it. I wanted soup at Jerry’s Deli. A gigantic steaming bowl of comfort food. So we went to Jerry’s, where he had a pastrami sandwich and fries, and I got Mom food: Chicken matzo ball soup, with lots of chicken, carrots and noodles, and a huge matzo ball. I couldn’t finish it all, so now I have dinner for tonight as well. Happy, happy me.
Back at my place, I showed him When Danny Met Erica, which got us both fired up to play some more. I was one hell of a lot more sensitive during Round Two, and he teased me about it. Oh well… considering how much crap I gave him about his hand, I certainly couldn’t complain!
But was I feeling absolutely wonderful? You tell me: