The Budding Career of a Porn Star

I made my first video last night.  And no, I don't actually mean for vivid or kink (or burning angel or...I really have watched too much porn in my life), but I did make my first movie for Mr. G last night.  Wow.  I really never thought I'd do that.  I haven't in 38 years been captured on video (and recorded, because I guess theoretically, webcam is "capturing" and just not recording it) being the whore that I am until now.

And I was not as horrified to watch it as I was afraid I'd be.  Like most women, I have serious body issues.  I go back and forth between not looking very closely at myself and examining myself in the mirror a little too much.  And I try very very hard not to disparage myself (out loud, my inner monologue is worse than Joan Rivers on the red carpet) because I don't want Mr. G to think I'm disparaging his property.  But I have to say, watching yourself play is a bizarre experience.

First off, I have to say I was *so* turned on because with Mr. G home and a fantastic welcome home chat, I felt like my world was back in place.  The planet that I, as a satellite, orbit around has once again returned and I'm no longer drifting, lost in space.  Plus, all he has to do is say a few key words and I'm panting, moaning, and truly soaking my panties. 

And I really went into this video-making with a good attitude.  I am not making this for public consumption or to make a profit.  I am making this movie for Mr. G.  He's seen me do these things and rather enjoyed the show.  I wanted to get fucked so badly because I'd waited days and days for him and then when he told me to fuck myself hard for him with a toy....launched me into full-on lust mode.  So I just violated myself a few different ways and in different positions and didn't analyze each and every frame.

And then I downloaded it to my computer and watched.  I had fucked up because I'd hit what I thought was pause but it really created like five different movies, so that was a little irritating.  And I didn't have the patience to find video editing software and piece them together.  So I watched them one time through really rather horrified (completely tearing apart my body, looking for every shot of my boobs looking floppy or my belly not at all lean and flat, butt...wow, certain views, it's wide!) and then a second time, more kindly and actually heard how much fun I was having for him, remembered how hot it is to be a dirty slut for him and actually got turned on a bit. (this is a huge improvement over the initial nausea I felt at seeing me fuck myself).

Then I dragged it to dropbox and shared it with Mr. G.  And now, I haven't heard from him yet today so I sit on pins and needles, feeling a bit like I just sent myself naked on a platter to Mr. G's hotel room and I'm waiting on the room service cart for him to answer the door.  It's a little horrifying, let me tell you. 

But I did it.  I did something I thought I'd never do.  And that's a true testament to Mr. G.  Because I never thought I'd let myself be recorded being such a dirty slut.  But he really asked me in such a way that I couldn't refuse.  He didn't order me to film it.  He asked me to fuck myself hard for him and cum hard for him.  And how nice it'd be if he had a video of that.  And I was like....uh...god, no please?  And he's like, okay, that's fine.  And then, I immediately want to please him and I know he didn't just say that as a passive aggressive way to make me film myself.  He genuinely only wants to push me in certain ways.  He never crosses that line of what makes me feel good about myself and what makes me wake up the next day feeling disgusted with myself over.  So how can a good slave not oblige?  He so rarely makes requests of me that makes me even *want* to say no.  And I really got the most pleasure out of the whole experience knowing that I was ultimately pleasing him.  Because even if he didn't like the videos, the fact that I did it for him shows him how much his pleasure means to me. 

Now, I just have to work on camera angles, I know there's got to be one that makes my stomach look flat....

Subbies and Slaves are Like Children

I'm going to hold my breath until Mr. G is home (tomorrow) and you can't make me let it out.

Weekends Are Made For Fun

I have had a most enjoyable weekend.  Ms. T came and spent the weekend and it's been so great seeing her and catching up and just getting to spend time together.  I love friends that you can go three years between visits and when you're together it's like no time has passed!

I want to thank all my commenters' advice.  And I actually took my anonymous reader's advice and went and got a Brazilian bikini wax!  And honestly, I have to say, the jury is still out.  The actual pain of getting it done is probably a 7 or 8 out of 10.  But, the pain really only lasts for a few seconds.  And I did a good job of hiding how much it hurt and tricked Ms. T into getting hers done, too. (Love you, Ms. T!)  I'd say it hurt about as much as a quirt, very much that kind of burny sting.  And, obviously, since the pain being administered was by a tiny Korean woman and not Mr. G, I wasn't the slightest bit turned on, so it wasn't really the fun kind of hurt.

But it will all be worth it if my pussy is smooth and beautiful.  At this point, it's still really pink and actually kind of bumpy.  Not bumpy in a razor burn kind of way, more like welts, really.  If in the next day or two, my sweet girl parts go back to their normal lily white and remain smooth and rash-free, I will definitely do it again (obviously right before my trip).  At this point, though, I'm not quite sure it was worth it.

Minus watching "The Secretary" and talking about Mr. G, it's been a fun, mellow vanilla weekend.  Realistically, though, without Mr. G around, life is vanilla.  I'm sure you all are waiting with bated breath to hear how my pussy heals.  And I promise to keep you posted.


And kudos to anyone who knows that the title of this post are lyrics from a Debbie Deb song called "Lookout Weekend!"

Any advice, anyone? Please? I'm begging....

So I need help.  I'm sure with all the submissives out there someone has to have found a solution to this problem.  And what is this problem?  Razorburn.  I get it so badly!  And I really just get it in my bikini area.  And I don't mean that politely.  Literally, just where the edge of a bikini would rub me.  I have tried shaving, a highly rated gel/cream and I have a professional-like home waxing kit but am terrified to use it *there* for fear of passing out from the pain.  What's a slave to do?

I have finally grown out and healed from my last nasty bout of razorburn.  But it's time to groom again and I seriously don't know what to do.  I've contemplated trying waxing in tiny areas to see if I can take it.  But wax is so sticky and impossible to get off.  I've looked into sugaring, epilators, different creams.  Not to get too graphic, but the *really* sensitive skin of my girl parts never gets bumps, just the area like on top of my pubis and the edges where maybe my panties rub?

So anyone have any sage advice?  Anyone?  Please?  I honestly have contemplated tweezing to an extent, but this really seems like it could be a form of torture.  I would be eternally grateful if ANYONE has any advice.

Aching need

I'm truly missing him so badly.  It makes me want my tits slapped, my nipples pinched and pulled and bit.  It makes me want to be tied down tightly, gag in my mouth.  It makes me want my inner thighs and pussy spanked.  I want to kneel naked before Mr. G, trembling with anticipation.  I want to see that look on his face that I've seen before when he's talking to me in his Dom voice (you know, that certain tone of voice that you hear that immediately makes you want to say "Sir" and makes you catch your breath) and know that we have hours of uninterrupted time ahead of us to fill some of my need. 

And quite honestly, it's just how badly i want to *serve* him.  I want the sexual pleasure and the hurt of the pain, too, don't get me wrong.  But what I crave, what feels like a hole in the center of me right now is being able to serve him, to do for him.  I get a stupid amount of satisfaction from just researching something for him and telling him what I've found.  When he says, "thank you, good girl," I feel like I just won a medal. 

The next 33 days seem like an eternity.  But just like any good addict needing a fix, I will take it one day at a time.  (No, I've never actually been an addict, but I have known and loved too many alcoholics and addicts not to know WAY too much about it.  There was a time I was a self-help book junkie and I think I've read them all.)  If I can make it through today, T will be home tomorrow. And then tomorrow night, my good friend MsT is coming for the weekend.  And that is going to be so much fun.  And then, Mr. G will be home Tuesday at some point and I'll definitely get to talk to him on the phone Wednesday.  I can do this without completely being a needy asshole!  I know I can.

Really?

I am in a psychiatrist's waiting room, waiting for a doctor's deposition. There is a special about the holocaust on the TV. Who thinks this is a good idea?

So this happened...

I don't usually get requested to write about certain things.  That's one of my favorite things about Mr. G (one of the 100's) is how he encourages me to write.  He has given me writing tasks and has always read and supported my blog.  Plus writing is so cathartic for me, it's my own form of therapy.  And also, every once in a while, I'm even entertaining (if only to myself).  

But there is something that happened a month or more back that Mr. G has mentioned I should blog about more than once.  And it's not really like me to not jump on his suggestions at all!  This is just a bit of a...(pun totally intended) sticky subject.  But I'm getting ahead of myself...

This was back during a time I refer to as when Mr. G was breaking me (he had said it was more of a "breaking in" than breaking.  I'm no fun broken.)  And actually, when he gets back from holiday, I'm sure it will go back to this more controlled, more limited orgasms, more training, and the like.  I know he got lenient with me because he was going away for holiday for two weeks.  So, really, this "breaking in" period continues status quo when he returns, I'm sure.


But anyway, I'm pretty sure I had gone days...days and days, maybe even like five days without cumming.  And I have to say, this blog is taking me forever to write.  I'm such a dork and a record-keeper that I had to actually check my skype log and re-read this whole scene to recall it with better clarity.  Funny how cumming like 10 times can blur the edges of one's memory.  And then, reading the skype logs was like a freaking highlight reel of us playing.  So then I had to go do my task and play (will describe task later, am staying on subject). 

So this was a particularly hot scene for us to begin with.  He had me spanking my tits with my hands and with a wooden spoon.  And he was teasing me with my toy, having me put it in and take it out.  He had me fucking myself, stop, start, that sort of thing.  Well, he finally let me cum.  And I probably had already cum two or three times when it happened.

I was on the couch, sort of kneeling/crouching in front of my lappie and web cam and I fucking squirted!  I was so shocked at first, I thought I peed.  But I knew I didn't pee and knew immediately as soon as I was done cumming what had happened.  Well, this was a very very fucking intense scene.  So after that first squirting orgasm, he had me keep playing and keep playing.  I ended up squirting THREE times in a row.  

Let me tell you.  I have never squirted before in my life.  And this isn't for lack of trying.  I'll tell you, I've been masterbating for over 25 years.  I've been watching porn for about 18 years.  I'm a very picky porn watcher these days because most of it is shit.  But I have gone through just about every category of kink and hardcore porn and watched at least a clip of it, just to see.  And there was a time I was obsessed with squirting.  I knew I could make myself if I just tried hard enough.  I watched videos and attempted this no less than a half a dozen times, but to no avail.

I don't know if he just had me so turned on, something clicked.  I don't know if it was the position or the toy.  Realistically, it can't have been the toy because that friend has been with me for a number of years, used ridiculously often and this has never happened before.  And he's had me so turned on, so worked up, in such a state that I could've rubbed my hand over my panties over my clit and cum so hard.  He has definitely had me this turned on before and maybe even more so. There isn't a good measuring stick for being turned on.  Well, whatever it was that night, it sure was messy and really fucking hot and totally bizarre.

Regarding the aforementioned need for pain

It's not that I think I need to justify my desire for pain.  Because, honestly, I don't care if it sounds "wrong" or "weird" that I crave pain sometimes as much as sexual pleasure.  And no, I do NOT identify as a masochist.  Because nine times out of ten, I want pain with pleasure, more so the pleasure than the pain.  But sometimes, I just crave the sting and heat of a really wicked spanking.  I want to feel like I just almost can't take it any longer and then take a little bit more. 

Not to push myself, like I want to constantly test my boundaries, more of just...I think I'm craving his dominance.  I can't put into words how it feels when he dominates me.  But I can describe a spanking that I need.  I can describe how much I want to feel his hands hold me across his lap and feel his hand spank my ass until it's so hot and red and I can't stop wiggling and making animal noises.  I can't put into words how much I need to feel his presence in my life.  But I can write about how he speaks to me and it affects me.  And I miss talking to him.  But that doesn't completely describe what I need right now.

Now, on a side note.  I know I always want/enjoy more pain under certain conditions.  I need more roughness when I'm frustrated or too turned on.  A good scene (flogging, spanking, rough sex, use of many toys and implements, et cetera) is akin to a good massage.  And subspace is like a deep meditation.  The rush of endorphins and lust and all the good things pumping through your body don't hurt either. 

I know that I am a junkie, and Mr. G is my drug.  I'm going through withdrawal bad.  And Mr. G was very good to me.  He even gave me permission to play a set amount of times, and I watched some porn and have taken care of business a few times.  But really, it's like sprinkling water from a watering can onto a forest fire.  Please, know, I'm not being ungrateful.  I am so thankful that he always takes such good care of me. And he really has been very generous in the orgasm department, to try and compensate for his being out of pocket.

But there's even more reasons that I crave Mr. G doing unspeakable (and really fucking hot) things to me until I can't tell you my name.  I've really had one of those days.  Here's the main menu at my pity party:
*  I lost my kid's hamster.  It's loose in the house somewhere and I'm sure one of the dogs will kill it.  Her reaction shattered my heart into pieces.
*  This is the longest I have gone without hearing from Mr. G.  Rationally, I totally get it.  Irrationally, I feel like bursting out crying and then running and throwing myself onto my bed face first and sobbing in classic over-dramatic style.
*  I'm always out of sorts when T is away.  I don't sleep well and spend the nights just sort of rattling around our house, trying to get sleepy.  Or I take a pill and end up being a total zombie the first half of the next day.
*  I'm having PMS so bad, if I was a horse, they'd probably put me down. (and usually, when I have any kind of a physical ailment, I am NOT horny and do NOT want more discomfort.  But I think today qualifies as a day I really need pain because of all the other reasons I have listed.)
*  This is actually the second time I've typed this blog (and I think the first was better written and WAY funnier, of course) because the first time around, my new blog-on-the-go iPhone app did a magic trick and made it disappear.  And I've had to retype it from scratch.

And now, I think I will go make some kind of a sad music mix and go boil myself in a hot bubble bath. 
Signing off,
Depression Girl

Have You Ever...

Needed to just be held down and spanked? And spanked until you don't want to be spanked anymore? And then spanked some more? No? Maybe it's just me. There are days I would beg Him to use me so rough and today is one of those days.

My Inner Circle Grows

I feel a little freer today. I actually "came out" to my cousin last night on the phone. And she was so accepting and cool (and even sweet enough to hear me blather on and on about Mr. G and how amazing he is) that it was such an amazing experience. Truly best case scenario as far as coming out about BDSM lifestyle choices to a family member/friend.

And it's not terribly surprising really. (After talking a bit she chided me for keeping it from her for so long) My cousin is actually the one who first taught me about the wonderful world of BDSM. She and I were roommates back in the day and we had lots of fun, drunken adventures. We also shared porn (mostly erotica type stuff) and stories with one another. She was also my "if I die, please dispose of my porn and toys before my parents come to get my stuff" person. (which, personally, I think is more important than your spare house key friend)

So it's funny that the person who I began my kinky and alternative lifestyle education with is the first vanilla person in my life that I've ever "come out" to. And I just feel like...a weight has been lifted off me a little. Someone who loves me and has known me since I was in diapers now knows I'm Mr. G's slave. I just feel a little less phony. I feel a little less isolated from my people who love me.

And I also feel like I wish my cousin would get on collarme and find herself a nice Dominant! She (and this is my own unprofessional Dr. Phil-like opinion) is doing what I used to do before I really came into my own as a sub (and then married a sub, so go figure) and is dating guys who are....aggressive, possessive, controlling (to a degree) but not Dominant. She gets to be the serving, nurturing woman but doesn't get to have the proper power exchange (or satisfaction of sub space and all that) that comes with a true BDSM type relationship. So I'm hoping my recent confession and her reading my blog and remembering how amazing *giving* yourself to someone is will inspire her to find herself something a little more fulfilling.

Oh and yay! Now that she said she'll keep reading my blog, my readership is up to three!

The Elephant Skeleton In My Closet

***This is a repost from my old blog.*** 

Let me state that this blog post is NOT written for sympathy. If I get a single “Oh, honey, I'm so sorry” comment, I will block you and you will never be allowed to comment again. I'm serious. I have mourned this and healed from it and moved on. I still believe I'm one of the luckiest girls in the world and I lead a pretty charmed life.

I, also, realize that there are lots of huge changes going on in my world right now and it's brought up a lot of emotions and such.  Ever since T and I joined collarme.com, it's sort of been in the back of my head, that I'm going to have to deal with this (or at least talk about it). I've been hoping I don't run into anyone I knew from back then. And hoping that if i do, no one tries to talk about the past. Time heals for sure. And I really believe that M sent me T, sort of like he's my guardian angel. Because T is the best thing that's ever happened to me and I don't think I would've/could've wanted to know T if it hadn't been for M.  (***as an addendum, this is a post I wrote a few months ago.  I also don't think I could be the slave to Mr.G that I am now if I hadn't experienced everything in my past.  I am who I am because of what I've been through.)

So let me just jump right into it. I was dabbling in the local scene. I had moved back to the area and was big into online and chatrooms and the like. There was a local munch and local chatrooms and I started taking part. I met some really cool people, some scary people, and a lot of overweight, unhappy, and redneck-y people. (sorry, I'm not this much of an asshole, but it's true) Then I met M.

First we chatted online for a bit. He was apparently newly single (his actual divorce wasn't finalized yet but he'd been living separately for months) and VERY high on the local bachelor market. There were a bunch of subbies buzzing around him.

When we met face to face for the first time, I remember thinking he's actually even cuter than his picture! We hit it off bigtime. He pretty much stopped talking to all the other subs as soon as we met face to face. There was so much chemistry. I remember the first time I had either no clothes or little clothes on in his presence. I was getting into my friend's hot tub and his hand just grazed my back, my shoulder actually and I swear there was electricity. We played this little game where he just barely touched me (now that I think about it, I know I had no top on because he was almost touching my nipples and I felt like they were going to jump off my chest) and everyone around was like, wow. That's intense.

And it was. I fell super hard for him. He was definitely nothing like I'd ever known before. This was during my period of meeting super nice Dom guys, just recently down on their luck in one way, shape or form. And M was no different. The divorce and some domestic crap had caused trouble at his work and he had one of the most stressful jobs a human being can have.   But he and I had so much fun. We talked on the phone for hours and hours.  We would chat online every night we weren't together.  We spent every weekend together (we were living about an hour and a half away from one another). We went to a bdsm club a few times. We went to a couple house parties and played. And minus the nasty subs who were jealous and catty because I'd landed him, I felt like we were doing amazingly well, with each other and within the local scene (which he and his soon-to-be ex wife had also been a part of). We even had people say to us afterwards (I'm not bragging, I'm just trying to explain how intense it was) that watching he and I play was some of the hottest they'd ever seen. He and I just really connected. 

We had even gotten to the point where he was going to “collar me.” He had this leather work guy measure my neck and he described exactly what he wanted made. We were going to have a collaring ceremony and everything. We hadn't specifically calendared it, but it was going to happen soon.

And then, three days before Thanksgiving, I get a call from his roommate. I was driving home from work and still don't know how I got home. He told me M had killed himself the night before. He shot himself in the head in his vehicle on a dead-end road. He even read his suicide note to me. (I was mentioned and I don't even remember what it said, something like “I know you'll find what you really need” or something of the sort.

So, needless to say. I know what it feels like to have a cannonball blown through the middle of my body. I'm pretty sure I was in shock for months. I only took a week off from work but then had to pick myself up and get back to it. I definitely had a mourning period for some time. And not only did I lose him, but then everything in the local scene had lost its fun for me. I felt like a widow and everyone felt so sorry for me. I had people say so many kind things to me but hearing their sadness (for my loss or theirs, he was very liked within the community) only made everything worse.

I didn't completely give upon on the local scene immediately. I even had a few relationships with some men after M but before T. I found that now I was only playing with subs who would switch. I didn't want to Domme them, I always seemed to force them to Dom me. I also had a fling with a local Dom who, for the LIFE of me, I can't figure out his appeal (Ms. T can attest to this. He really is a smarmy little weasle of a guy) but he could look at me and I wanted to be naked and kneeling. There was one fellow who was so much fun to play with but he had been a good friend of M's and it became evident that he and I had fun together but weren't long-term relationship material.

And then I was lucky enough to meet T. And I'll tell that story some other time. And T is my rock of Gibraltar. I have never felt so safe and so sure of who I am to him and who he is to me. And the funny thing is, due to recent developments in T's life, I know even more that his stick-to-it-ness is stronger than ever.

But I guess I needed to talk about this. Put it out there in the universe so maybe now I can move on. It's one of the reasons why I don't even really look at local Doms. I don't want to run into an “old friend” or anything of the sort. I need this. T needs this. We are loving letting our inner sluts/subs out of the closet. But being so vulnerable, getting into philosophical discussions with my Friend, as well as playing and being a slut for Him has made me realize I'm dealing with some seriously deep shit.

So yeah. I have some emtional baggage, apparently. I have this irrational fear of being left. I'm working on it by writing this. By putting it out there in the universe and saying I survived this to be a better, stronger person. 

And if anyone wonders if I ever thought about ending my life. I'll answer that, too. Never. Not for one second. And it's not some deep religious belief or anything like that. I just know that I'm here for a reason and it's not for me to decide when I'm done. Even when things were the bleakest, when I woke up in the morning and felt like a robot, just going through the motions, suicide was never ever an option for me. I eventually got to a pretty good place of knowing that what M did was for reasons that had nothing to do with me. I had talked to him for two hours the night he shot himself and couldn't have possibly “been there” any more for him. I learned the fucking hard lesson that you don't cause other people's actions. We all make our own choices. I never felt guilty or responsible for his death because I know I was the only happiness he had in the last few months of his life. And for that and that life I've gotten to lead since then, I'm thankful.

Day 3

The world always seems less catastrophic after a few good cums, I must admit.  I still miss my Master, still hate knowing I have *so* many days ahead of not hearing his voice.  The worst part is, I know his trip is only 14 days, but I realized I won't get to speak to him until the 15th day...so that was a fun realization.  Something about counting days on a calendar is apparently too difficult for me.  But realistically, do I count that as 14 days that I ache for him, or count that next day, also, so it's 15?  It's like a fucking word problem.  I last spoke with him on Monday, the 6th.  I will next speak to him on Wednesday, the 22nd. So how many days is that?  Jesus, why is that so complicated?  It's like time travel.  If I go back in time, do I see me in the past?  And if so, how many "me's" are there?   And can I go back and tell the 20-year-old me to adore my body because it's only going downhill from there? 

Just kidding.  Actually, I am the closest to my goal weight/fitness level I have been in my adult life!  I can't count late teens/early 20's as being in good fitness and health just because I was skinnier, since I smoked cigarettes for nine years. Gross.  And back then, I drank way too much alcohol and imbibed in way too many illicit drugs.  I wasn't very good to myself in general.  

I take way better care of myself now that I am Mr. G's girl, too.  Being happy and comfortably married had let me get a little too soft.  Plus, it helps that Mr. G trains.  The fact that he keeps his fitness level up makes me want to ramp mine up.  I don't want to be huffing and puffing and saying, "Let me catch my breath, sir."  That's so unsexy.  And he trains with a trainer.  So it's not like he does a few sit-ups and push-ups and calls it a day.  I just need to take the time to push myself a little farther every day.  And I promised to use these days that he's away to my benefit; working hard, making good money, spending quality time with the family, and working out and staying in the mindset that I'm his slave and he may very well have me weigh in when he gets back from holiday to see if I've stuck with the plan.  

Plus, I'm so excited to see my friend, Ms. T.  She's coming to visit next weekend and I cannot wait!  I can't believe it's been over THREE years since we've hung out in person.  I guess because we talk on the phone and text so much, it doesn't seem like it's been that long.  Plus, I have a busy weekend planned for this weekend, too.  So I am not being depression girl (Mr. G's nickname for me when I'm pouty) MOST of  the time.  I promised myself I'd let myself have a little time each day to miss him, ache for him, be sad and then go back to my day. 

I want to end my blog quoting Shakespeare.  I have to say, I really loathe poetry.  But sometimes, words come together in a quintessential way that is just about perfect.  

Sonnet 57

Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do, till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu;
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save, where you are how happy you make those.
So true a fool is love that in your will,
Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.

Filler

I am cleaning out my previous blog and recycling some posts.  Mostly because I'm lazy and want more posts on this blog.  But also because when I write something, I sometimes become attached to it and want more people to read it.  So I'm going to post a couple little fiction items I wrote and one past journal entry.

I feel naked posting without first sending it to Mr. G to read.  He is on holiday for the next two weeks and he has given me a blanket okay to post these old posts as well as anything I see fit to post.  But at the same time, I feel weird not having him okay it first.  Funny how rules and the way things are done become habit very quickly in my world.

If I knew even the tiniest bit about web design I would be so much happier with my blog.  There are little tweaks that truly make me crazy that I can't figure out how to tweak.  And all my IT people (minus T who looked at it while half asleep last night and said "good luck with that") are vanilla!  Boo!

So anyway, wish me luck.  I only have 13 more days to go without hearing His voice.  I realize just HOW spoiled I am.  I'm so lucky that we can speak on the phone or via skype so often.  It's like some nights, I get to spend all night with him.  And He's a responsible Master.  He's emailing me and making sure I'm staying busy because idle hands.....(creep into my panties and waste an afternoon)