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Monday, September 9, 2013

"I'll think about it."

A simple, common sentence. Four little words. Who knew that it could get me in so damn much trouble?

I must backtrack for a bit. When I spoke with Steve last Thursday, he was not doing well. A lot of work stress, plus the added aggravation of having to move (the house he's been renting for years has been put up for sale, and he doesn't wish to buy it). I asked if he was coming over Monday, and he said with regret in his voice, "I really don't know. I've been so out of it lately, not sleeping well... I don't think I can get into the right head space for play, sweetie."

"Listen to me," I said. "We don't have to play. I'm your friend. Come over and just talk to me, vent, whatever you want. You don't have to perform for me. I just want to see you." I meant it. He could tell, because he agreed to come by this morning. 

I had no expectations of play whatsoever, and when he came in, I could tell he hadn't been exaggerating about how stressed he was. I've never seen him so tense. When he tried to send a text to a colleague, he fumbled the phone. I had him lie down on my bed, and I massaged his head until I felt him relax. "Thank you for taking care of me," he said. "I'm sorry about the role reversal. I should be taking care of you."

"You will another time," I said. "For now, you need to rest." He wound down a bit, talking less, and finally murmured, "You know, I'm fading... I could go to sleep right now." "Then go ahead," I insisted. Right after that, he practically passed out, poor guy. He slept for the better part of an hour, I think.

After he woke, I stretched alongside him and we chatted some more. He thanked me again for being here for him, and I answered, "Thank you for letting me. I was afraid you were going to shut me out, because you were so stressed out." He went on to assure me that he would never do that, no matter what was going on. As we talked, I could feel him coming back. His voice, his body language, everything was changing from the tense man who had walked in a while ago back into the Steve I see every week. "How many times do I have to tell you I'm not going anywhere?" he teased. I shrugged, and he added, "You do know that, right? You'd better know it, or I'll roll you over right now."

Hmmm. I liked the sound of that. I still didn't answer.

With a little bit more of a toppy edge, he repeated, "You do know that, don't you? Say yes."

All I had to do was say "yes," and I was off the hook. Instead, I smirked at him and replied, "I'll think about it."

Wrong. Answer.

"Oh, that's it," he growled. "If I had my bag with me, this would be a boot camp moment. You'll think about it?? Go get me something. I'll give you something to think about."

Giggling, I went to my closet. And then temporary insanity overtook me. I could have brought him the Cane-iac OTK strap that I like so much. Or a leather paddle. But no-o-o-o. I brought him that @#$%ing Strictly Lickin' Stick, the one Kat sold to John at Shadow Lane.

How does one describe this monstrosity? It's not a thick, thuddy paddle; it's only about 5/16" thick. But it's not just one piece of wood; it's actually six super-thin layers of hardwood laminated together, finely sanded and polished, then coated with lacquer. It doesn't quite sting, either. It burns and it bites, unlike anything I can think of. It's NASTY.

Why I brought it to him, I don't know. 

He wasted no time in flipping me into position on the bed and shoving pillows under my hips. "No warm-up," he said calmly, laying into me immediately. Oh, my God.

"Still thinking, honey? What are you thinking now? Hmmm?" It was all happening so fast and so intensely, I couldn't think at all. "Uhmmm, nothing, nothing! I'm not thinking anything! Ow! That hurts!"

"I'm sure it does," he replied, continuing. "I need to remind you. We're going to rename this 'the reminder stick.' You need to be reminded that I'm here for the long haul." I tried to process the pain, sink into it, be with it, but damned if that thing wasn't setting me on fire, so I struggled and kicked.

"No," he scolded, "no kicking. Keep still. I'm not going to stop until you stop moving." So I'd manage to for a few swats... but then squirm and thrash again.

"You still thinking about it?" he asked. "NO!" I hollered. "I'm not, I'm not!" "So are you sure now?" "YES!" "Tell me." "I'm sure you're not going anywhere! I'm sorryyyyyy!"

"Just a few more," he assured me. The only problem was that he said that three or four times!! "Keep still," he warned again. "I can't, it HURTS!" "I know, honey."

I tried, I really did. I managed to hold perfectly still for a few more. But when that last one cracked down across both cheeks, I lost it. "STEEEEEEEEEEVE!" tore out of my throat in a shriek, and I swiftly rolled onto my back, my arms and legs frantically curling up and in.

He did not attempt to reposition me. He knew I was done. Instead, he pulled me to him and held on tight. "It's over, baby. Hold onto me. Let it out."

I burst into tears. The good kind. The kind that cleanse me from the inside out.

No, it wasn't one of our long, multi-layered scenes. It was quick, unexpected, spontaneous, and ferocious. But it was what we both needed, apparently. The tension was gone from both of us. Soon, I was laughing through my tears. And he was laughing too.


But I still hate that fucking Lickin' Stick. :-Þ

He didn't bring his camera today, but I took a couple of "selfies" after he left.

Look at my sulky face! Don't you feel sorry for me??

Yeah, I didn't think so. Nuts to all of you. :-)

Especially you, Kat!! 

(P.S.  All kidding aside... I ♥ you, Steve. Thank you. I hope things will all fall into place for you soon. Until then, I'm not going anywhere, either.)


  1. Sometimes "yes" is the hardest thing to say, isn't it? It does sound like you picked just the right implement, though, even if it is evil.

  2. That's an implement I won't be mentioning to G., that's for sure. LOL We have enough evil implements as it is!

    I'm glad you both got what you needed. A lot of Tops forget that Bottoms can take care of them too when things get rough. G. still has to learn that one.

  3. TKL -- oh, I don't know. I wouldn't mind answering "yes" to "Do you think I'm an idiot??" ;-)

    Jen -- absolutely. I told him I wouldn't be worth much if all I did was take. I can't stand people like that.

  4. Yeah, I'm a giver. I'm finally going to get a chance to do for G. this time when I'm visiting him. I'm going to cook for him a few times! And maybe I'll even learn how to make coffee for him. I don't drink the stuff myself, but hey, if it gets his butt out of bed earlier, I'm willing to work on it. ; )

  5. LOL! But you'd think by now tops would learn to stop asking you silly questions like that. Anyone who asks you if you think they're an idiot surely deserves that answer.


  6. As much of a self-proclaimed "attention whore" as you are, you can be quite compassionate and fiercely protective of your friends. Good for you for knocking some sense into that guy and taking care of him.

  7. Craig -- thanks. I know how much nurturing means to me, so I try to give it when it's needed. :-)

  8. Hi

    Someone at the vendor fair tried to convince me to purchase one of those evil thingies, claiming impending punishment if she did not sell enough of them. I know a good thing when I see it but this struck me as too much, even if you did ask for it.


  9. I would LOVE to see some one literally lick one of those...sticks! LOL

    You were a sweetie for allowing Steve to just unwind. People appreciate that allowance to let one's guard down, vent, rest, etc and to not have to be in charge all of the time.

  10. The connection we build with our play partners is very special. We beat each other, we comfort each other, we hug each other and life is just better.

    Thank you for sharing.


  11. Erica, I once wrote a poem called "YES", and it goes something like this. "YES, is such a happy word. And NO, is such a sad one. If we could say more YES then NO. This world would be a glad one". You can sing it to the tune of Yankee Doodle Dandy. Try singing it now. XXX Luv ya.

  12. The cheaper version is a paint stick made for the 5 gallon make good paddles.
    Sir Mike

  13. So you both got what you needed, sounds lovely. And pretty damned sexy ;)

  14. Nice story, Ms Scott. Nice moral to the story, too.

    It strikes me that you are a woman who in an earlier era would have been called, with respect and admiration, 'A great broad.' A feminine 'mensch.'

    I always enjoy your stuff. Thanks.

  15. Emanuele -- it's not for the faint of heart, even though it looks fairly innocuous.

    Kelly -- men especially. Even in this day and age, women are allowed to have their times of need, but men are generally not. And even if they are, they don't THINK they are.

    joey -- I love how you summed that up! It's perfect. :-)

    Six -- please don't make me sing. You don't want me to sing. :-)

    Mike -- I've heard about those paint stirrers. Definitely cheaper, but they can break. This won't (unfortunately).

    slavemala -- we did indeed. :-)

    Anonymous -- (grinning) My dad used to say stuff like that. I can practically hear him now. Thank you.

  16. Ah the lickin' stick.

    Once again, YOU ARE WELCOME! :-D


  17. Hi Erica -- That was so sweet of you,to be there for Steve :-) I am happy that you both got what you needed. The pic of you giving the lickin stick, the finger is very funny LOL and priceless.The lickin stick is evil,it made your bum so red.I want to get spanked with it, I guess I am a sucker for punishment LOL :-) Much Love and hugs from naughty girl Jade

  18. Jade -- no. You don't want it. Trust me!

  19. Sometimes, a top needs precare before the spanking,and then the bottom needs aftercare after the spanking.

    On that thing you are flipping the bird for, it is so innocent looking you would think it would be like any ordinary paddle. NOT! Those slender things are just plain evil. Even a 12" ruler can be rather formidable. Remind me to not allow my top to use her "Lickin' Stick" on me! (Although, she did introduce something akin to it, though shorter. Hummph!)

  20. Bobbie Jo -- precare, I like that! Yeah, implements are not always what meets the eye. Even the different woods can have quite the variety of feelings. And smaller does not mean lighter!

  21. I just love you and this post, so raw and honest.....amazing, thank you.


    PS: Let us all remember tomorrow, 9/ many lost, but always also remember to choose love first!

  22. Ron -- thank you. And yes, always remember 9/11 -- twelve years ago tomorrow.

  23. What a caring, thoughtful young lady you are. I am sure Steve appreciates being to talk about it without any pressure on him to play.

    There is just one little thing though. "I'll" is an abbreviation of "I will", so technically it is 5 words not 4. You as an editor should appreciate that. I hope for your butt's sake Steve is not too concerned with minor technicalities of the Queen's English rather than the use of americanisms that seem to crop up everywhere these days...

  24. OOps should read "being able to talk"

  25. TLB -- LOL! What a technicality! I'm fairly certain that contractions are considered one word, not two. But good point.

  26. Joey said it all. It was very nice of you to let him relax with no expectations, and hey, it worked out for you anyway. ;-) That lickin' stick will not be on my future purchases list!

  27. Lea -- yeah, leave it off. Smart idea.