i’ve been fighting a yucky cold for days. Sir Raven threatened to leave me home when we had plans to go out and have dinner with our M/s friends. She sounds stern when she says, “You will be staying home, girl, if you don’t get better by tonight.” So, i dumped cold meds down all day, got some extra rest, and looked decent enough that she agreed i could go.
i didn’t feel too well, just bad enough to not want to spend the night alone, so i was pleased when she let me go.
Sir Raven had taken me to the big grocery store earlier in the day, so we could find gluten-free cookies to bring for our gluten-free friend. We shopped quickly in the too-crowded store and made our way back home. She didn’t have to do this for me, and i appreciated it, because it was highly unlikely i’d have found a gluten free desert by myself in our normal grocery and that was what i had been asked to bring.
We shared a vegetarian meal of kale and couscous, which was delightful. There was a pretty interesting conversation about fears of loosing your identity when you become a slave, and i think that the difference could be in part if your dynamic is consensual non consent or not. Sir Raven and i are CNC and i discovered that my identity, preferences, values, and pleasures have become so closely aligned with hers that i only have a vague awareness of the likes i had three years ago, before we found each other. Those things don’t matter. What i feel when i think about how i have moved from expressing, “ugh! i’m not a boy!” to my surprised realization that Sir Raven was intending to purchase Doc Martin’s for me three years ago to “Oh! Yay! They are sexy!” now is pride that i have aligned myself “correctly.” It’s a good feeling. A success.
i am surprised, at times, around couples that are not CNC because i accept that how life works here doesn’t include asking my opinion often. i forget that other people do this routinely and expect it as a commonplace event. It’s not that Sir Raven never asks my opinion. She does. But she is is free to ignore it and tell me we are still going to do it her way.
Mostly, it works out really well.
We stayed up talking with our friends til 3am and i made her a breakfast of bacon and waffles when we got home. Alone, we both expressed surprise when we see people behave in ways that would be ordinary, i guess, if they weren’t M/s. We are just really used to me obeying that its a major event when i hesitate.
i was surprised when Sir Raven let me have a single cup of coffee the next day, admitting she felt hung over, but said that it was our Sunday alone and that meant back to bed for a beating. “After I beat you without mercy,” she declared, “you will go out for more bacon because I don’t want sausage.”
Being the greedy Bad Daddy that she is, at long last, meant she changed her mind and enjoyed her eggs, sausage, and bagel hours later, when she was done.
She went to grab for my throat while whipping me and i instinctively bared my throat, accustomed to her grabbing me by the collar, and felt her pull me by the hair across the bed instead. We needed this, the pain, the letting go into each other. Today, my body still carries the beautiful marks.
i love my Bad Daddy, i do. 🙂
Last night, Karida spent the night after work and noted my thighs and then asked to see my ass. Her response, a gasp, made me laugh until she stuck her thumb into various welts and asked, “Does that hurt?” Heh. What are sisters for? She cleaned up the kitchen last night, which i really appreciated, and we watched a movie together. i am always happy to see her. We are making plans for out next adventures, next week, while she is off of work and i’m off school on break. Sir Raven already agreed to it, so we are excited! So are our new build-a-bear sisters, who are coming with us for the fun.
i have to start my afternoon chores late because Sir Raven let me sleep in this morning. The house is clean and dinner is started but i need to do some shopping. She needs wine and i need some veggies to mix in the couscous and chicken i’m making for dinner. i’m going to ask if she thinks i’m well enough today to do some laundry before i go to slave-hell or something but suspect she will tell me no. The goodliest Master wants me well and to not overdo anything while i’m still sick. i’m thankful she cares and takes such good care of me.