Category Archives: Reasons I love Sir

Silly Subtle Stuff {1}

So i’m trying to take Cailin’s advice in her comment on my last post, where she says:

I try not to let a day go by…or a thing he does slip by without telling him what it did for me…or how happy it/he makes me….

And i figure that has to start with paying more attention to the way things already are.  Since, you know, i let that whole “He ties me to the bed” thing get by me as a Dominant act, i thought i should notice more.

So today, i was cleaning up the kitchen and cleaned out the frig, throwing away some left-over carryout that neither of us was going to eat.  It filled my garbage can – the under the sink garbage can.  So ~

~ you thought i was going to say “i took the garbage out,” didn’t you?  But no.  i have a rule.  i’m not allowed to take the garbage out, only Sir can take the garbage out.

i don’t know why.  It’s not a new rule, it’s been there ever since He moved in a couple of years ago.  i can nudge Him ~ for example, i might say, “i was thinking about taking out the garbage before i go to bed tonight,” and He’ll say, “No you’re not.” or “You better not!”  and take it out himself.   We both know what i’m doing, but He’s fine with that.

i’m not allowed to take it to the street or bring the cans in either.  He does that.  And He does it on His time schedule (and the pick-up people’s schedule), not necessarily when i think He should.

So that’s one that i obey all the time, and don’t think about anymore, except today, when i had this dilemma while He was at work.  i couldn’t leave it because i had more that needed to go.  So i texted Him.

Yes, i texted my Sir to get permission to take the garbage out.

“If you must…” he replied.  So i did.

It’s very strange, isn’t it?

sofia Gets herself in Trouble…

Not for the first time, but this was a good bad one.

It started innocently enough.  i was getting ready for work, Sir was already dressed, looking handsome, ready to head out the door.  i say,

“What do you think you might want for dinner tonight?”

Now i should tell you, if i haven’t mentioned this before, Sir has some unusual eating habits.  He is not a gourmand by any means.  Some nights, He has cereal for dinner.  Not because He couldn’t have other things, but strictly by choice.  Some nights, He has peanut butter and jelly.  By choice.

i’m on the 17 Day diet again, cycle 1.  i’ve lost 2 pounds this week.  Yay.  But i have to make sure i vary the food i choose or i get bored and start craving other food.

So i’m mentally planning dinner, and i say, almost without thinking,

“What do you think you might want for dinner tonight?  i want something exciting…  O, wait, that’s right, you’re boring.”

Yeah.  That’s what i said.  Then i realized what i’d said, and i try to salvage the situation by adding ~ with complete honesty ~

“About food!  Not anything else!  Just food!”

Too late.

“Boring?”  He says, “Did you just say I’m boring????”

“Um, um, yes, yes, Sir, i kind of did, but that not what i meant, you’re not boring, not at all, not even a teeny bit,” and my voice drops to an almost whisper,  “except ~ just ~ you know, about food…”  Cause i am nothing if not an honest slut.

Too late.  No bonus points for honesty either.


Of course no punishment was immediately forthcoming.   Too many people in the house.  But i’m sure it’s only a matter of time…  And i’m hoping betting spanking will be involved.

Doing It Differently

“There is one thing I think I need to do differently,” He says.

i lean forward, fascinated.  “There is?”

“Yes,” He says thoughtfully, nodding, “I’ve been thinking about it, even watched a couple of videos, and I think there’s a change I need to make.”

Keeping my voice soft and low, not wanting to shift the mood, i ask, “What is it?”

“Aftercare!” He says, in the tones of one announcing the discovery of America.  “I need to do more aftercare.”

i’m a little surprised, but pleased.  You know, one’s Dominant wanting to give you more aftercare sounds like a great thing.  i’m still smiling when He says:

“BUT.   I haven’t been doing it because you have’t NEEDED aftercare.  I haven’t given you the kind of stripes that require aftercare.  That’s what I need to do first.  Give you some real serious stripes.”

My smile is weaker.  “O,” i say.  “Serious stripes?”

“Yeah,” complacent now,  “I need to really give you the kind of stripes that, without some aftercare, you’ll still be feeling them 3 or 4 days later.  Then we can do some aftercare.  Don’t you think?”

What can i say?  The tingle in my belly and the heat between my legs suggest it’s still not a bad idea.

“We’ll need to go from about a seven to a nine on the pain scale,” He says, “Really leave some marks.  Then maybe put some ice on them.  That would be good.  Don’t you think so?”

Well.  You know, it wasn’t my first thought when He said He wanted to do more aftercare.  But what can i say?  “Yes,” i say, half-smiling, part-excited, part-resigned,  “Yes, Sir, that sounds right to me.”

Sir Says No

Yesterday, i worked on house stuff all day, which means i did about 20 times more physical labor than i’m used to.  At the end of the day,  i was exhausted.

Sir had been home for a little bit when i finally stumbled upstairs from the basement.  He was about to come downstairs again {we had already done our ‘welcome home’ hugs} but i noticed He was holding a cup of coffee.  It looked lovely.

It smelled lovely.

i say, “Coffee.”

“Yes,” He says.  i’m feeling a bit guilty because He fixed His own coffee, but more than that, i want some.

“You fixed it yourself,” i say.

“Yes,” He says.  “I would have fixed you some, but it’s too late for you to have coffee.  You won’t sleep.”

“But ~ i want some ~ i can fix ~”

“NO,” He says firmly.  “It’s 8:00.  It’s too late for you to have coffee.  You won’t sleep.  Have a glass of wine if you like, but no coffee.”

i wanted to huff, i wanted to protest, i wanted to fix coffee,… but damnit.  He’s right.   O, i would have gone to sleep, but i would have been awake about 2 or 3 a.m., lying there unable to go back to sleep.


Obeying Him in this small thing, particularly since He’s right,  probably seems like no big deal to youall.  But ~ well ~

i guess i must be an unusually stubborn, willful hag most of the time, because i can think of times when i would have said, “Nuh-uh,” and proceeded to fix myself a cup of coffee.   i don’t know if it’s submission or just common sense that allows me to accept His stance.

But in either case, i bite back my defiance and say, “Yes, Sir.”  And sleep til almost 6:30 this morning.


So i don’t know how i became one of those bloggers who doesn’t answer comments.  i never thought that would be me, but here i am.  And i LOVE comments.

Starting today, i’ll do better.  i can’t promise to catch up anytime soon, but i’ll start staying on top of it, instead of feeling guilty about not having already answered older comments…

The Next Thing I Know…

So there i am, on the balcony, feeling just a tad uneasy about the way Sir’s looking at me, just because i said i might be a little bit mean if He wakes me up in the middle of the night.  But He’s shaking His head.

“I don’t think I like the sound of that,” He says.  He gets up and disappears into the room, leaving me even more on edge.

He comes back with a collar.  Um, my collar, i guess ~ the leather training collar.  And for just a second, i think, No, o, no…  But He walks behind me, puts His hands around my neck so He’s cupping my chin, and i feel myself melt in His hands, so when He puts the collar on me, and i feel the leather against my skin as He pulls it taut and buckles it then i have already started slipping…

…. you know how it works….

………sliding down into that space where i just belong to Him, and really what was i thinking ~~

~~ of course it will be ok if He wakes me up later… why would it not be?

And then after the collar He takes each ankle, and buckles on the cuffs, and then the rope around my wrists, and i’m bound, nicely bound.  There is lots of rope left at the end of my wrists, increasing my  awareness of how He has secured me.

He tells me to scoot closer to His chair, and when i am where He wants me, almost touching Him, He lifts my skirt, pushes it up around my waist and begins to play with me.

He plays with me for a while, taking me to the edge a couple of times, before He lets me cum, watching me dispassionately as i go over the top ~ once, twice ~ and then, when i’m all relaxed, “Get ready for bed,” He says.

He tells me again that He’s going to get on-line for a little while and take a shower and He’ll wake me up later.

Obediently, i go brush my teeth and wash my face and get undressed.   i’m very aware of the loose rope attached to my wrists as i move around and when i take my top off i have to pull the rope through the armholes.

When He tucks me in, He ties the ropes on my wrists to the rings on my ankle cuffs.  He leaves the right one pretty loose, so i know i could reach over to untie myself if i had to, but He ties the left one so snugly that when i lie on my side, like i always do, with my legs curled up a bit and my hands under my chin, then the rope on that side is just long enough to reach from ankle to wrist.

But He pushes me onto my back first, makes me open my legs.  Plays with me some more.  After i cum a couple of more times, He kisses me and covers me up.

He tells me to go to sleep, and i do.

When i wake up, i think i’m alone.  i glance at the clock ~ almost 12:30, it was about 9:30 when i went to sleep, i think.  i wonder where He is.  Then i hear the shower running, and i know where He is.

i lie there with my eyes closed, awake, waiting for Him. Wondering what He’ll do when He comes to get me.  Not in an unpleasant way, just waiting to see.

Then He’s there, beside the bed, and i’m waking up for real, the rest of the way.  He pinches my nipples, hard, before He puts the nipple clamps on, tightening each one mercilessly.  Then ~

“Up.”  He says.  “On the floor.”

i can’t stand up, because of the ropes, but He doesn’t want me standing anyhow.

“Crawl,” He says.  “Yes, down on your hands and knees. Crawl.  Come on, this way.”

Obediently, i crawl ~ across the room, out to ~ o, my, out to the balcony. He has a towel on the ground, in front of His chair.  i crawl to the towel, and He brings a pillow for me to kneel on.   Another pillow to put under me, and He lets me fool with it til i’m pretty comfortable.

Then He sits down.  Yes, in front of me.

“Now,” He says, leaning back, “Show me *fellatio*.”

And i do.  Quite happily.


When we’re finished, He puts me back to bed, and i fall asleep curled up with Him behind me.

i almost forget sometimes, forget that He is not just my wonderful, slightly geeky, brilliant, kind, very zen Beloved One.  i almost forget sometimes that He is also this Dominant man who uses me as He sees fit, in His way and His time.

Crawling across the hotel floor, naked, intensely aware of the chain dangling between my nipple clamps, i think, O, yes, here He is, this is Him too.

In the morning, i feel softer, happier, well-loved.  More open.   You know, it’s not like i wasn’t those things before ~ i don’t know ~ youall know what i mean ~ it’s just being in that space completely,  i can feel my submission and His dominance and i can rest safe there.

Thank you, Sir.

So then…

Last night, it was kind of late for me, and i should have already gone to bed, but i didn’t, and then i look over and He’s reading the blog and sort of nodding, and looking at me sideways.   O, dear.

Too late to go to bed now.

“So show me what you’ve got there,” He says, pointing to my handy-dandy new seat.  “How does this work?”

Eagerly, i assemble the yoga blocks and towel.

Confidently, i straddle the mini-tower and settle comfortably onto the seat, looking up at Sir for approval ~

~~ which was NOT forthcoming.

He looks at me like i’ve, um, just crawled out from under a rock.  He shakes His head.

“What?” i ask.  “What’s wrong?”

“No,” says He.  “What is this – this thing you’re doing?”

“It’s my seat!” i say.

“No,” He says, with more head shaking.  “That’s not ~ that’s ~ if you put a dildo on that, it would be a sybian*!”

“Well,” and i start to giggle, “Yes, i guess it would be.  But there no dildo on it, and you said you wanted me to find a comfortable way to do this, and this is it!”

So He’s still shaking His head, but He starts laughing too.  And once He starts, He can’t stop.

In between fits of laughter, He looks at me and shakes His head.  Affectionately, i think.  But still.

When He’s able to quit laughing, we have a little argument discussion.  i try to explain why this is the only thing that works.  He doesn’t get it agree.

He says i’m not even sitting, i’m astride it.  i try to get on-line and prove that “straddling something” is still “sitting.”  i’m not very successful.

We talk some more.

He looks some stuff up on-line and makes me try some other ways of sitting.  i explain why they don’t work.

He says He guesses He’ll have to make me a seiza specially designed for me.   i’m concerned because i’m not positive the seiza will work the way i think it will.  i really don’t want Him to make it and not have it work.

Today, i think i can do some more research first and try some other things too.  Back to the drawing board…

{Btw, thanks, Sfp, for the link to The Count ~ Sir thought that was very funny.}

*  Here’s a sybian:


How It Works

i don’t get how it works for real.  But i know this ~

Yesterday, i was a bit overwhelmed with sadness ~ too many bad things happening to people ~ people i know, people i don’t know ~ things that were painful, not fair, not right.  By last night, i was just a bit overwhelmed.

Apparently, i have a saturation point.  It’s as if i can absorb “x” amount of pain and sadness, but after that certain point, anything that’s the least bit sad just seems overwhelmingly painful.

This is a revelation in itself ~ the recognition that the reason i react strongly to things that might seem small when i’m trying to absorb too much pain and loss and grief and injustice and… yeah.  All that.

When Sir puts me to bed last night, i tell Him about it.

He strokes me a bit, after He encircles my right ankle with rope and binds me securely for the night.  His caress is firm.  He takes both my wrists in one hand, holding them together, and runs His other hand down my body.

Then there are spanks ~ quick, stinging, He watches my ass turn pink.  Just one cheek, the one that’s most convenient for Him.  i know, even spanks on alternate cheeks would be nice, but i’ve learned that i usually regret asking for that.

Then He’s done, He pulls the covers over me and kisses me.  i feel better.  Lots better.

i don’t understand how that works.  i just know it does.

Thank you, Sir.