This is kind of what the squirmies look like.
Daddy and I have a little plan to remedy the fact that I’ve never felt a real hitachi
It’s Tuesday, which means I have to write on myself for Sir.
(That’s what you’re seeing on my breasts.)
And it was a great, productive, encouraging day, which means I get to have some alone time with some of my favorite corners of the Internet.
The first time I ever cried for Sir in a D/s context was when he pushed my face into a plate and wiped food all over my face while I was being a kitty for him. We were dating, right on the cusp of becoming some kind of an official couple, and I react rather strongly to degradation. So, I cursed at him and whimpered and started crying. And then I asked him to do it again.
He says he wants to make me cry like that, but push me harder. Humiliation and degradation aren’t really my favorite things, but mostly because I’ve had some pretty rotten experiences with other people. I want to trust that he will handle the aftercare properly and he won’t trigger anything weird, but I’m scared. He knows it, too, and has been really patient and open and loving about negotiating it.
So I want to be brave when I see him in December and let him push me really hard. In his words, I’ve been “braver and braver” lately and I want to be able to trust him.