The day that she left me

I haven't had much sex lately, much less anything kinky, so it's not really all that surprising to me that I wake up dreaming about canes and such. I don't even like canes, I just really want a good beating.

For the most part, Jay and I have been out of town on the weekends, with other people around, so it's not like we can just get kinky. Or do anything, really. I tend to be on my very best, non-kinky behavior around other people, so it really limits the possibilities.

The other night, though I went to bed with a scarf tied around my head, to keep my hair back, as it was bugging me. The scarf fell off, as it usually does, which interested Jay, god alone knows why. He started playing with it, and eventually laid it over my eyes.

My first, immediate, gut reaction was to freak. the fuck. out. I absolutely abhor things on my face or head. I am that person you see outside with nothing more than ear muffs on my head when the wind chill is 20 below. There are two things I can deal with: earmuffs or ear bands, and ski goggles, and the latter only when it is bitterly cold and it's the only way to keep my face warm.

I took a deep breath and didn't freak out, and he eventually took it off, only to put it back on again. I could feel a rising sense of panic, but I thought that I was in control of it, that I would be okay. And for a while, I almost was. I really wasn't though. When he tried to fuck me, it hurt - a bad hurt. My body was clearly saying "Nope, not okay", even as my mind desperately tried to assert the opposite.

Cannot stand things on my face. Pissed off because I have not been put in my place at all recently, and it's way too easy to sit down. Naturally, my mini-meltdown put a halt to any and all activities, so I got to wake up this morning to absolutely brutally brilliant images of being cuffed, gagged, and caned *fans self*.

I am hoping for birthday spankings. Having a social life sucks.