In the Pink

The last year has not been without its challenges, much of which is why I haven't been around as much.

Work has been the most significant change. I voluntarily left full-time occupation for a part-time position, filling in the rest of my time as a self-employed tabby.

The ripple effect has been astonishing. My kids now love the fact that I spend more time at home and demonstrate their love by getting mostly A grades. My time is now more my own, and I am therefore so much more motivated to work. It's a win-win.

My health is back under control. I have a chronic illness, but I'm managing it well and my health is good. My doctor told me that I have the blood pressure of a 17 year old -- to which I replied "well, as long as I don't have the brains of a 17 year old, we're alright."

😄

My D/s situation gets better from week to week. Not only am I blessed enough to be the submissive of a truly amazing human being -- beg his pardon, feline -- but as I learn and grown more, I find myself in the position to help out others by mentoring and the like. I like paying back the good stuff. Or should that be paying forward? The positive side of things, anyway. I'm not a person who focuses on the negative, which is why I usually find it easy to forgive. Rare are the occasions when I cannot find it in my heart to forgive.

So... now we're all caught up. So where the fuck have you all been since I disappeared? And what have y'all been up to?

Nu??

Despite my not having written until earlier today for months and months and months, suddenly my blog is getting a bunch of views a day. This is over the past week. I visited this site yesterday for the first time in months, and today I wrote my first blog post since March. (This is the second.)

Bizarre. You'd think someone wanted to read my dormant blog for some weird reason. Maybe I have a stalker. What do you think, gentle reader?

I mean, I love having people read when I have something to say or am in prolific writing mode -- even if they don't comment. But when i've not written anything here for months on end (since March, up until this morning to be exact) -- have hardly visited the site, even -- it means that someone has deliberately gone looking. With potentially unpleasant and ulterior motives. Sad, but true. Creepy even, but no less true.

So whoever you are -- do me a solid and go be creepy elsewhere.

Nu, yalla!

I feel as though I just landed.

I spent the week on a roller-coaster ride -- but not in a good way.

If I can stretch and mangle the analogy to an as-yet unachieved extent -- and you know I can -- it was like a roller-coaster ride where you're safely strapped in, but there's no wiggle room to the extent that you can barely breathe. Where the rickety sounds that the carriage makes as you whoosh down or up or over the curves and dips sound frighteningly wobbly. Where you just ate a three course meal which is threatening to revisit -- and soon.

You're feeling me now, amirite?

This week, I was put in a situation where I was forced to make a choice that would hurt someone. I had two choices, and at least one person would be hurt by each of the choices. The situation was visited upon me, suddenly and abruptly as if I'd been away and the mice had played and built a house of cards in my living room. And there I stood, with my head on one side, pondering and wondering how the fuck I could or should handle things.

The situation had been created in a manner that the technical term for which is, I believe, "ass-backwards". No one had considered the long-term effects, or the feelings of those involved and how to spare them. Roller-coaster rides for everyone, apparently.

It worked out that there were two options that I had to choose between, neither of which sat well with me. I was angry that I'd been put in the position in which I'd been put. I was frustrated that I'd been handed this with no forewarning, and suddenly I had to make an unpleasant decision which had consequences that would hurt people, no matter what.

I gave it deep, deep thought and length, soul-searching consideration. I turned the various potential scenarios over and over in my head. I looked at the consequences of each of my possible options, I played out all the possible scenarios in my head and I made my decision. It wasn't easy -- not at all. Talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place. However, I know that the decision I made was right for the majority of people concerned, and were the situation repeated, I would make the same decision.

I spoke to the person closest to my heart, and informed him of my decision. It hurt me enormously to inflict such pain upon him, but it had to be done. After a couple of days, we spoke again. I explained in greater detail how I felt, and my reasoning, and why I could not make an alternate decision. We communicated in the clear and direct manner that we always do.

He said to me, and I quote:

"I do understand your decision, and I know that you didn't make it lightly. It's part of why I love you -- that you know your own mind, and you think things through properly. Had you made a decision just to please me, (with the likelihood of regretting it afterwards), then I would have resented you. As it is, I don't, I won't and I couldn't resent you. I love you very much, PLT."

I'm so blessed to have him in my life. I love you BBC. Thank you for helping me land.

Leaving the big bad cat after a rendezvous of particularly spine-tingling intensity, I view the world with different eyes.

Prior to stepping out of the magical world, in which no one exists but us two, I make myself ready with humdrum yet essential preparations, since walking the streets naked and glowing is not really an option.

Oh shhh. You know it isn't.

I look in the mirror, and stifle a squeal of horror at the birds nest my carefully coiffeured thatch has become over the space of a few passionate hours. Working my much-practiced magic, using weapons of mass destruction, I manage to subdue and restrain the frightwig on my head until I once again resemble the ordinary, working mother so beloved of my vanilla acquaintances.

I turn to the Big Bad Cat, and ask him whether I still have sex hair.

He laughs.

"No, you don't have sex hair, my darling, but you do have sex eyes."

And it's true. I know that to remove the sappy, happy, sated and blissed-out grin plastered across my face, it will take time and much concentration on matter of extreme mundanity. I'm floating above the earth, although my feet make contact with the metal, concrete or gravel that they encounter, but I'm still a passenger on the Sub-Space Express, and there's not a lot I can do to change that.

Not that I would want to, as I'm sure you can imagine.

But from the inside -- and I believe I have mentioned how the events that go on around me, and involving me, are all taken down and noted by the little man in my head, the quintessential documentor who is a constant passenger on my shoulder -- the world from inside looking out is a very different place when I look out through sex eyes. I half-expect people to stop me in the street, ask me for tips on having their eyes glow tawny gold as mine feel as though they do, or tell me how blissed out I look.

No one ever does, of course. Which is fine. I'm quite happy to radiate the love and peaceful tranquility that I feel, with no specific payback.

I open the door, and there you stand. The life is half-drained from you and it's clear that you've had a fucker of a day.

I take your hand and silently lead you inside. For a moment, I hold you close to me, so that you can revive somewhat on the warmth and closeness of my body to yours, but before you crumble and collapse into me completely, I stop you with a whispered "shh..." and a finger to your lips.

Wordlessly, I indicate towards the bed with my head. You lie down, looking up at me with a bleak expression, but when i bend to softly stroke a stray hair out of your eyes, and then grasp a handful of hair in my hand, your expression relaxes into one of happiness. I know what you need. You need to be taken out of yourself, taken to another level, where you can achieve a real release -- and find some peace.

You know that you need this -- and so do I.

I take your wrists, and flip you over, so that you're face down on the bed. I slide a pillow under your stomach to give you some wiggle room, and secure your wrists. You are now restrained, pliant and submissive -- and entirely under my control. I crouch down in front of the bed, so that you can lift your eyes to see me, and I delight in the expression i see. I knew that this was what you wanted -- more to the point, it was what you needed. I can already feel you calming down, which is very gratifying.

I stand up, and walk around to the other end of the bed, and secure your ankles, so that your whole body resembles an X. Taking my red suede flogger, I trail the tails across your shoulder blades, and down your back, watching you shiver with antici..... pation. I slide my hand under you, and feel you as you grow beneath my fingers -- but then just as quickly remove my hand. None of that for now. Not yet.

Stepping back, I lazily flick the flogger across your back, and you moan gently with pleasure-pain. I repeat the act, each time gaining in intensity. This is a release that needs to be built up to, in order for it to achieve its true aim. Each flog stroke is harder and thuddier, and each reaction I see from you is clear evidence of your mounting arousal.

I straddle your back, so that you can feel my cunt brush against your skin, and know how wet I am. Laying the flogger aside, I once again run my hands over your face, from behind you, and grasp your hair with each stroke. I repeat my actions, allowing you to lick my fingers as they flutter past your mouth, watching you shudder with delight as I rake my nails through your hair. Reaching behind me, I spank first one butt cheek, and then the other, alternating between stroking your face, pulling your hair, and smacking your fast-reddening behind, not forgetting your lovely broad shoulders... all the while conscious and very aware that your cock is hard, stiff and oozing rivers of pre-cum beneath you.

You know that for me to do something with your hot, hard tool, you need to ask -- no, you need to beg. And beg you do:

"God, please... touch me... please let me cum. Make me cum. Please..."

I pause, torn between wanting you to come, and taking you to the higher level of release. On consideration, I decide upon the latter, and walking round the front of the bed, I lift your head and lightly slap your face.

"Keep begging. You're not quite ready for your release. Not just yet."

You subside, and sigh, but I know that you trust me. You also know that this will mean an almighty release later, rather than a more half-hearted effort earlier.

I resume my intense flogging of your ass, its redness a beacon in the half-lit room. I love how you writhe and moan -- I can tell how you love it, and how you need this intensity of experience.

Finally, I lay aside my flogger, allowing you to subside a little and relax. I stop and rub some lavender oil into your skin, massaging the now submissive muscles under the heel of my hand.

Untying your wrists, I then lie on the bed next to you, and slide myself underneath you so that your tongue can taste my own arousal - which it rushes to do. My hands don't leave your skin for a moment, rubbing your shoulders and neck, manipulating your muscles into submission and banishing the tension that the world has left imprinted on you.

Your mouth dances on my cunt, and i pull away. This is about you -- you are the one who comes first, for today, at least. I wriggle away from you, and kneeling on the bed, I untie your ankles and flip you over. Your hard, straining cock bounces up, almost like an old friend waving hello. Once again, I secure your hands and feet, wrists bound together behind your head, ankles each fastened securely with rope to the bed posts.

You cannot touch me, nor can you touch yourself. You cannot wrap your legs around me and pull me on to you, as I know you yearn to do. You can barely squirm where the cool sheets gently slip and slide beneath your red, flogged ass, but this does not quell your ardor. I reach under you, and stroke the skin of your ass, as I bend my head to you and tease you with my tongue. Just the very tip of the head feels my mouth on it. You are secured enough that lifting your hips is almost, but not quite, impossible -- so you inch them up from the bed, but it's no good. I retreat.

"Beg."

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh please, oh please, oh please, can I...? May I...? Please... please... please..."

"Be specific."

"May I cum? Please?"

"Where?"

"In your mouth. In your cunt. In your ass. I don't care. Just please, please... make me cum... please."

I feel myself almost weaken --your plaintive cry has touched my heart. I steel myself, and slap your face.

"You're my bunny, my good boy. Yes?"

"Yes!!"

"You want to cum?"

"Yes! God, yes, please... yes!"

I acquiesce -- finally -- and take you in my mouth. I tease the rim of your cockhead once more before allowing you full entrance all the way down my throat. I suck you hard, and then release -- over and over and over again until you can't bear it any more, and I wait to hear you ask permission, knowing how close you are to exploding, but also knowing that without permission, you wouldn't dare come.

"God... shit! May I ... cum... please!! I'm really close."

I give you the thumbs up, as well as a full-mouthed, affirmative "mmph" and immediately feel you shoot ropes of cum into my mouth. Gently, lovingly, i lick your cock and balls clean, retreating slowly as you shake with the aftershocks.

I nestle next to you, having removed the ties from your wrists so that I can administer tender aftercare.

But your ankles remain tied -- we're not quite done yet.

I have been laid low by a Foul and Disgusting Disease.

Ugh.

Not content with making me feel like I have razorblades in my throat everytime I swallow, which I hardly need tell you is not my fetish, or a pounding headache, or a throbbing (not in the fun way) ear-ache but also dizziness and general weakness.

Not a surprise, given the circumstance, I grant you -- but still. Suckworthy.

Confined to my sick bed, I yowled to the Big Bad Cat.

"I feel like crap. I can barely move without being in pain. I have to cancel our date. Gah."

A warm and reassuring voice purred down the phone to me.

"No worries, Tabby. I'll just have to come and visit you, if you can't come to me. But you will come. It's the cure-all medicine."

Well, what was I to do? He insisted, after all.

As a result of said visit, the details of which are too gruesome to recount (or rather, best kept between myself and the Nefarious Evil Mean and Rotten Feline), I highly recommend orgasms, taken internally (although not always orally) as a treatment for whatever illnesses plague you this "winter".

😄

Wishing you all continued good health. (Cough sneeze splutter wince sniff spit sigh.)

Yes, I'm back.

Yes, it's been a while.

Yes, I should be ashamed of myself for abandoning you all for so long. How have you coped without me? Bad Lilly. Spank me? (Offers to spank in comments please, but read the rest first, s'il vous plait.)

So it was a fucking disgustingly hot Summer, over which I had a li'l fun. Only a very li'l, unfortunately -- circumstances contrived to keep myself and the NEMRF apart for nearly 3 weeks, which was unpleasant in the extreme. However, we are long past that and back to our regular yet irregular routine. I also found myself a sub -- or so I thought. It turned out that, according to him, I couldn't possibly dominate anyone since i was a sub. Slow, monosyllabic explanation of the word "switch" got me nowhere. And to top it all, he's into humiliation, so to vent my feelings at him, and call him a tiny-dicked pathetic piece of astroturf, not fit to lick my stilletos, was exactly what he wanted.

It's very aggravating. Think about it, how does one insult a humiliation fetishist? (Answers in comments, bitte.)

Might have found another though. A real sweetheart, who would like me to restrain him and force him to eat me for hours. The knee-jerk response to which is, of course, "Well, if you INSIST."

So tell me what's happening, people? I have missed y'all, yanno.

And just to pick up on an old tradition, if I may indulge myself by dedicating something to the Big Bad Cat of my heart, here's this week's Friday video clip. Since I've missed so many, it's a bit of a doozie. One mgiht argue that it was a bit sappy, but they'd have to do it to my face, and be prepared for my switchiest response.

Have a great weekend, y'all.