Correspondence Hall of Shame, 1/7

Welcome to the first CHoS of 2022. Are we all settled into the new year? Hangovers long gone? Good. Here’s another set of headaches.

I would love to give you a nice coconut oil massage and eat your ass and pussy really good and give you all 10 inches of my thick cock real nice and deep and perhaps make you squirt all over it 😉 would love to give you a solid spanking

I don’t suppose you would love to give me a comma or a period somewhere in this mess, would you? banging head on desk I like how he tacks on a spanking like an afterthought.

How much and how hard do you let a special man wail on your ass?

I really would rather a man not wail on my ass. I prefer the raining of blows on it, not tears. (It’s whale, stupid.)

You seek real time Master to Own you 24/7 TPE long term?
You always been submissive and obedient?
Been owned before?
How much pain can you take?

reaching for Advil bottle
No, I do not.
I never have been.
No.
A lot. But not from you.

I want my hands all over your behind. Maybe my tongue too. I love your behind. Need to meet it soon.

(sigh) You do realize that said behind comes attached to an entire person, right? It’s not like I can detach it and FedEx it to you.

I was gonna call you beautiful but they say that beauty comes from inside and I haven’t been inside you yet.

No. You didn’t. You did not just write this to me. dumping handful of Advil into my mouth

And finally… this one is a bit of a departure. It was not written directly to me. But I was made aware that it was written about me — that I was being discussed in, shall we say, less than flattering terms. So I checked it out. Here’s the best part of it.

That girl is the most fowl[sic]-mouthed, idiotic, bitch there is, bless her heart.

Well now. (Fowl??? For cluck’s sake.)

I read on. Someone spoke up for me (thank you ♥), and then there was backpedaling, claiming that this was merely an example of how you can say the most vile things and then nullify them with heart blessing. To this, I say “Bwak bwak.” Which is hen-speak for “Bullshit.”

Ah, so many things I could say. But a friend of mine said it best. I was musing to him that since this individual is clearly obsessed with me and I’m living rent-free in their head, perhaps I should give up my apartment. And my friend replied, “Why would you want to live in such a small and ugly place?”

Boom. And mic drop.

Haters gonna hate. And now, because I’d like to cleanse my mind of this garbage, I’d like to end on a positive note. I do get a lot of nice messages too. A Twitter friend sent me this last week.

[You have a] ‘dont give a fuck’ attitude (but you do about good/sensible things), you know what you want from friends/people/politics/life *and* you also have inadvertently introduced me to the love of my life. I’m not the type to use and toss others aside, I hope you know that and I want you to know that you bring me immense happiness and joy even from afar.

Now, you see, that sort of thing makes it all worth it. ♥

By the way, my marks are all gone. I thought I’d have them through the weekend. I am a resilient little warrior.

Have a great weekend, y’all. Please be safe.

Consider me reset

And so it’s 2022. Sadly, 2021 ended with tears. But what goes down must come up. Eventually. And yesterday, this picture captured my moment of spacey, giddy serenity.

Spending New Year’s Day with John lightened my spirits. Then yesterday, I got to see Chris, who braved snow and a rental car and a long-ass drive to come see me.

It was a perfect visit, start to finish. Just so comfortable. It was chilly outside, but his hotel room was warm and cozy, and we sat and talked for about an hour when I first arrived. And then, of course, we began our play.

What a sheer joy it was to settle in, rest my head on the bed, and know with every fiber of my being that I was in the best of hands. No worries about being injured, of too high/too low/too whatever strikes yanking me out of the zone. You simply don’t know how crappy and unfulfilling it can be until you experience a bad player. And then, a good one is like the sweetest of treats.

I felt a little concerned about him, as he’d taken a bad slip on an escalator and pretty much tore his knee open (it shredded the jeans he was wearing). As I was going across his lap, I was afraid of hitting that area, and I said, “I don’t want to hurt you.” He answered, “Well… I can’t say the same!” Okay then. And we were off.

Nice, long, slow warm-up with his hand. He varied it so much that I never knew what he was going to do, which added that extra edge. And he didn’t spare my upper thighs at all. When he announced that it was time to move on to implements, I blurted, “What for? Your hand is a fucking meat mallet!” But I really didn’t mind at all. I enjoy implements, if I can trust the hand wielding them. I know they will hurt, but not harm. Such an important differentiation.

We played hard. He knew I needed it, and so did he. We’d both had a crummy time of it recently, so this was really a reset for both of us. He pushed me right to the edge, even using a few wooden implements, which I normally say NO to but with him, I knew I’d be okay. I went from clenching my fists and groaning to burying my face in the bedspread and screaming. And then I dissolved into tears. Cleansing, healing tears.

(Warning: some might find my marks a bit extreme. It’s all relative. There was no broken skin whatsoever, and much of this had faded already.)

We took a break. For me to calm down (and cool down), and for him to go take care of his poor knee, which had broken open again and bled right through the bandage and onto his jeans. For a long time, I didn’t want to talk, just wanted to float, and he held me in his arms and let me be. I felt… safe.

After a long rest, with cuddlings, talking, and almond oil, we had a brief Round Two, but it was just with his hand this time. I knew he’d stop when it was time. And sure enough, he announced, “Well, it looks like this bottom has taken all that it can for today.” “Sorry to disappoint you,” I quipped. “Not in the least!” he assured me.

He was annoyed with himself that I was uneven. But didn’t want to do what he’d need to do to make the right cheek match the left. For this, I said a most heartfelt thank you.

I said goodbye and left around 3:45. The floatiness remained with me for the rest of the afternoon and evening. I’m surprised I was able to get some work done, but even in my mush-mind state, I had focus.

He checked in with me a couple of hours later, and first thing this morning. Of course he did. Because that’s who he is.

Today, a lot of this faded, but daaaaaaamn, I’m sore. And tired. But calm. I’m even going to attempt a workout, although my butt might protest. And I lost a half-day of work yesterday, so I need to get back into it full speed.

So. Friends are good things. And good tops are worth their weight in gold. Appreciate yours always. I do. Last night, I said thank you to John for being so supportive of my needs, And thank you, Chris, for making the long trip to see me. And thank you for loving it as much I did… that’s half my joy. ♥