July 23, 2010

Maintaining high speeds

“Count on counting for me before we leave,” he said when I asked if we‘d have some playtime prior to our weekend trip.

We’re off to the races. NASCAR. Which may or may not be punishment enough for this particular girl. You see, I’m not a fan. I’ve never quite understood the appeal of watching cars turn left at dangerously high speeds. I am, however, looking forward to a weekend away with D and his friends, card-playing, barbecuing, and a (drastic) change of scenery. The thunder of the race cars, the adrenaline, the fans in head-to-toe NASCAR apparel (I own nothing of the like) may convert me. I suspect I am inconvertible, but we’ll see. I pride myself on my open mind, so this will be a test.

And of course, I’m anticipating a sore bottom and wondering what type of spanking is in store for me this afternoon. I foolishly, yet purposely, mentioned to D earlier this week that as we go deeper into our relationship I view him more as a “boyfriend” than a “Dom”.*

That’s like dangling raw steak in front of a tiger. Raar.

Maintenance may be on the menu. A reminder of our D/s roots, if not today, is certainly in our immediate future. That means more time with that dastardly heavy paddle and the wicked pink crop, more time on my knees, more time accepting his dominance over me.

It is what I want. It is what claims my breath and sets my mind on its blissful float: to give myself over to his will, to free my other self -- the submissive that remains well hidden to the masses. We mustn’t lose this element no matter how strong our romantic feelings grow.

I am, however, posting this after D already left for my house. No need for him to read it prior to passing a sentence that I suspect has already been passed.

Oh, and this is for D: Jeff Gordon sucks!

(*I have never for an instant forgotten that D is my Dom. It's just difficult finding and maintaining that balance. More on that for a later post.)

Top photograph by the amazingly talented Viva Van Story.


  1. Have fun on your trip, both of you!

    Now mind your manners, Miss Pink. You wouldn't want D to have to give you the look, or even a verbal warning (!) in front of company, would you? To hear him ask you if you need a reminder? To hear him ask to be excused, and to grab your elbow and walk you to somewhere with the appearance of privacy, but within earshot? To have to apologize to him publicly, perhaps even with a Sir! Or to be overheard apologizing while over his knee, intermixed with the slap of his hand or belt? That would be shameful. Now go be good! And do obey your Dom.

  2. Anony: SHHHHHH! You'll tip my hand.

  3. I wonder if D brought you home any switches from his camping trip? You know, as a token of his affection? I mean, maybe one for very day that he missed your bottom.

  4. Oh you naughty naughty girl!


  5. So the weekend is over, have you been converted?

    "...more time on my knees, more time accepting his dominance over me."

    For me that would be a heavenly place. You are one lucky lady and I know D is lucky.

    I'm sure that Jeff Gordon remark got you some extra swats with some instrument that you hate.


  6. I just found you blog and was thrilled to see the first picture in this post because I know the woman who took it. She is as beautiful as she is talented.

  7. Anony 1: Nope, no switches. But it turns out that our souvenir was even better!

    FH: Me, naughty?

    H: I am not a NASCAR fan, but I can see a growing addiction to the whole racing experience. So. Much. Fun.

    As far as the reminder of his Domhood, yes, it has been firmly (ha!) reestablished. Glorious.

    Anony 2: I would love to know the name of the photographer so I can give her credit. (If you think she'd appreciate her name mentioned on a blog such as mine.)

    It is, indeed, a small world. And I do love that photo.


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