I always make a themed birthday feast for Esquire. Past themes have included The King's Feast, The Hunter's Table, Roman Patrician, 1940s Opulence, and Pirate Tavern.

This year is goblincore, as a nod to our living in goblin mode for the past six months. It's much simpler than usual, for two obvious reasons, but I'm pleased to be able to do it at all!

Rediscovery

Once upon a time, I fetishized homemaking. I loved to cook and bake and sew and serve. It felt like a part of my submissive side. Little by little, these things dropped out of my life as I fell into the deep ruts of work and screen time.

Ironic, then, that when I had babies and less time than ever, I got a surge of energy for homemaking. I've done more baking since giving birth than I had in probably five years put together. When the babies were two months old, I hauled out my sewing machine and altered a dress while they looked on from their baby swings. I cook dinner most nights (with a lot of shortcuts). I make my own baby food!

I like it. I hope it stays (Esquire does too).

I wish I knew who you were!

Thank you. We are discovering and rediscovering parts of ourselves every minute of this new venture. What a way to liven up our days!

Thank you, anon! We are beyond delighted. Also sleep-deprived.

I'm still here!

Barely, but I'm here. This time I have a pretty good reason for being inactive: Esquire and I had babies! Two of them! Twins!

It's flipping exhausting, but we're in it together, and we've never been more in love. Being Daddy is a good look on Esquire.

I wonder

If my bratting sounded more like teasing and less like being irritable, would Esquire get the hint? Will try this and report back.

I was looking for my Tide pen. It wasn’t where I usually keep it, and I know that I only return it to that one specific drawer. “Where is my Tide pen?” I asked Esquire loudly, slamming the drawers in the laundry room open and closed. 

He came out of his office. 

“I didn’t do anything with it,” he said. 

“You did, because I always put it in that drawer!”

“Do you need it right this second? I’ll go get you another one later.”

I did need it right that second. I very stupidly reupholstered our couch white earlier this year, and then I ate a piece of chocolate on it and of course a tiny crumb had gotten smeared on one of the cushions. This was all, of course, entirely my fault, but that wasn’t stopping me from making it his problem, too. I’m not a brat, and I am not skilled in the gentle poking of the beast that so many of you have mastered. Instead, when it has been many months since I’ve gotten a spanking, it comes out as snips and barbs, a needling attitude designed to get under his skin. Am I proud of this? No. Does it work often? No. But will I get over myself and just tell him what I want? Also no.

It didn’t take him long to find it in a completely different place than usual, somewhere that I wouldn’t even think to put it. I huffed. 

“Do you think that maybe you left it out the last time you used it, and that’s why I put it away?”

“Probably, but why wouldn’t you ask me where it went instead of throwing it in any random place?”

I took it and blotted the spot on the couch. He continued to stand there. “Well,” he said. “Are you going to apologize?” 

“No,” I told him, not even looking up from what I was doing. He stayed for another few seconds and then went back into his office to take a phone call.

I was asking for a spanking–begging, even. But he doesn’t speak the language. In my imagination, he would have put me over his knee right then and there for my attitude, and it would have been a sterner correction than I was angling for. I tested a boundary and found that, while it was there, it wasn’t in the way I wanted. Without the spanking bug, Esquire doesn’t sense the underlying reason for my behavior, and even someone who does have it would be well within their rights to respond with frustration here instead of spanking. I’m not a rude person in general, and I know that I owe him an apology when he gets off the phone. If I had the guts, I’d ask for a spanking while I do it.

Winter Blues

It’s winter again, and I feel just as useless as I did last winter, at least in the writing department. In fact, I think it’s been well over a year since I’ve written a single thing (which is why I’ve closed the subscription section of my site for now). Here are some things about the past year, though:

1. I moved! Esquire and I moved back to my hometown, a smaller city than the one I’ve lived in for the past decade. There’s not as much to do here, although I wasn’t doing very much during the pandemic anyways. During the summer, I took care of the lovely garden, and now in winter I get to sit by the lovely fire. One of our cats hates the cold, it turns out, and has never been as cuddly.

2. We had a wedding! I do not recommend it, honestly. It was very stressful, as it happened the same week that the news about Delta broke. Everyone was vaccinated, but a member of my bridal party tested positive the day before the wedding. We almost canceled, but ended up moving it outdoors instead. My mom was a nightmare to the vendors I hired. I truly wish we’d left it at our elopement. The only good thing was I got to see my sister for the first time in two years, and she is a TREASURE. That, and no one else got COVID from the wedding.

3. We also had a memorial for my grandparents, at the beach where they lived during my childhood and where we had the wedding. They took their own lives in spring of 2020, right at the beginning of the pandemic. I can’t stop thinking about their final days, of how they might have decided it was time, of them going in solidarity, despite their differences. The wedding was horrendous, but the memorial, where the whole family stood shrouded in mist at the ocean’s edge and tossed their ashes into the waves–I think that was worth it.

4. I left my comfortable job where I had a team I loved and supervisors who gave me great feedback about my work and started a new one where I am on the verge of a panic attack all the time. I never get any real feedback from my boss aside from the occasional “You’re doing great!”, and the clients constantly email me to complain about things I can’t control. As someone who thrives on accountability, this is something of a nightmare. At least my colleagues have become a lot more friendly to me recently. I’ve mostly forgotten how to socialize, so this is a big step.

So anyway, that’s what I’ve been up to, instead of writing. I’ll get back to it one of these days, as soon as I’ve finished writing thank-you notes from the wedding and unpacking those last four boxes from the move.

My mom wants to buy Esquire some athletic pants for Christmas, so we looked at some online together. I was NOT prepared for her to ask me ONE BILLION times if I thought he would like the “discipline pants” from Lululemon. 

I really wonder if a significant percentage of submissives have ADHD. A lot of my submissive tendencies overlap with my tendency towards disorganization and chaos. 

I always have the best of intentions, but it’s the lack of follow-through for me. SUCH LACK OF FOLLOW-THROUGH.

New interactive fiction story up in my members’ section!

Should I spank my vassal?