“Come back upstairs for a second, I want to try something” he says and I do. He puts handcuffs on me and threads a rope through them, tying my hands to the door hinge high above my head. “I think that will work” he says, I hear the smile in his voice. He hits me twice, three times lightly with the small flogger. My skin tingles and aches for more. He lets me down and unlocks the cuffs swiftly, kissing me lightly on the forehead. “That will definitely work”.
We go back downstairs and both feel slightly better about our lives, because of even such a brief transaction.
I have a new editor apparently, just got the email about it. So that could be good or bad, depending. It’s a guy and I prefer working with women usually, but my first ever editor Bob Smith was pretty okay, and I wasn’t happy with my last one and she was a lady… so we will see. I need to sleep now, I really really should. Tomorrow holds lots of responsibilities
I really don’t like my new editor as much as my old one. For one, she has way higher standards and keeps making me re-write shit that I KNOW my last editor totally wouldn’t have had a problem with at all. For two, I’m writing an article about what to wear with a goodamn turtleneck (except it’s for the UK and they call them polo necks for some unfathomable reason) and she wants me to add a section about “who should wear turtle necks” and talk about what sort of “body types” they work with and don’t work with. I have a fundamental problem with that. I think it’s fucking gross and bigoted and I strongly believe that everyone should wear whatever the fuck they are comfortable in, whatever the fuck makes them feel good no matter what motherfucking “body type” they have. So…. I’m straight up not going to write that. My list of people who shouldn’t wear turtle necks is going to include -people who don’t like having tight shit around their necks, – People who get hot easily because turtlenecks are hella warm. That’s it. That’s the end of the list. If she gives me shit about it I will tell her what’s up. I wish I had a better way of making money that didn’t involve me writing soul-crushingly boring and stupid articles about stuff I don’t care about / actively dislike. Buuut I don’t. Aaaand I don’t want a “real” job anyway.. so I guess I’m stuck for now. At least the pay is semi-decent. I’m going back to work now.
Oh my god I should be asleep. I should have been asleep ages ago, but I’m awake and can’t stop thinking about things. Love and lovely things and oh man I’m a sexual deviant but not in any like… illegal ways so it’s okay. I was so weak all day and his every touch just… so powerful and I wish I could allow myself to feel that all the time but I couldn’t function. still, I adore it and love it when I can. I should be asleep, but I stayed up to read the rest of a moderately kinky webcomic that I really liked because it approached the whole issue of bdsm in a realistic way that highlighted its human imperfections and dangers and beauty and it went a long way toward explaining why someone might be so drawn to it. I should be asleep. I’m going to try to sleep but I can’t stop thinking about how much I love the man who’s bed I share, and all the things he makes me feel and Damn I want him to bite me again and I want to do a scene that lasts longer than a night. Oh man, I’m in deep. I’ve got it bad. Okay I’m going to try and sleep.
These are some of the songs that kept coming on my Pandora radio and getting stuck in my head while I was doing tons of work the past couple days. I prefer mostly up-tempo songs while I write, sometimes emo childish songs to get me through the angst of how terrible writing all this boring bullshit feels. So, here’s a short playlist of my top pics from the past few days, in no particular order.
1. Noah and the Whale – Five Years Time
2. Panic! at the Disco -Nine in the Afternoon
3. Radical Face – Welcome Home
4. Vampire Weekend – Oxford Comma
5. Arctic Monkeys -Fluorescent Adolescence
6. Fall Out Boy – My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark
YoooOoooOoooo! I am that special kind of tired ~bordering~on~delerium~ that is magic and lovely and I feel like I could STAY AWAKE FOREVER!!ii!!ii!! But I probably hopefully will not. I’m going to finish one more guide, and then I plan to sleep. That leaves 3 to complete tomorrow before 7pm. YEAH BUDDY! I’m amped UP SON! So far handling all this much better than I did last week, even though it’s still stressing me out and in and up and down again. RIGHT! I’m gunna go take a wiz, and then I’m going to walk around for a minute to keep my blood flowing, and then I’m going to LAY DOWN SOME MORE WORDS FOR MONEY. If I’m in bed by 6am I will consider it a victory. VICTORY I SAY!
I just love that song so much, and all the lyrics are awesome and clever and I want to be that awesome and clever. I’m tired and procrastinating once again. It’s almost 1am and I NEEDNEEDNEED to write three more guides before I go to sleep. Seriously, I just feel a sustained sense of anxiety the whole time I’m writing them and I don’t know how to ease it, or why exactly I feel that way. It’s not hard to write, it’s just… I dunno, draining on my soul. I can feel little bits of my soul flecking off with each pointless, empty line I lay down. Still, can’t complain. It’s much less soul crushing than other forms of gaining money I have experienced. Even so, it makes me want to run and sing and scream and rip stuff up and beg and take a beating and fuck and all the things that build my soul back up. ~~ but I digress ~~ I NEED to go back to work. I’m still annoyed that I managed to lose my package like a wicked huge loser who loses stuff… but I’m mostly over it. I continue to hope that the rest of the week works out well. Please, please, please. I look eagerly forward to Friday after 7pm.
I only wrote 2 articles today which is definitely better than nothing but well short of my goal. Oh well. I’d rather go to sleep now at 5 than stay up until 7 finishing another one. Hopefully tomorrow will be kind and everything will work out.
Shout out to the managers of our apartment complex for waiting as long as possible to turn on the AC so we get to fucking roast!
Shout out to my face for busting out some pimples every month in concurrence with certain hormonal events and making me look like a greasy teenager for a few days.
Shout out to vacuum cleaners and wallpaper and watch bands and polo shirts, I’m gunna write about you for money.