So, Sir just gave me a new rule that Full Friday is now Flirty Friday, which entails that I have to send a nude to someone that isn’t him.
(Obviously, someone we both know would be trustworthy about that sort of thing.)
As much as I pouted and whined about it, I’ve got to admit I’m not totally against the idea.
I was a bad girl today and forgot to ask Sir’s permission before having a cocktail. Now I have to sleep with Mr. Purple in my asshole so I’ll never, ever forget to ask permission again.
(Note: I can totally safeword out of this, and this is a consensual punishment.)
You can’t fault Sweetheart for trying.
Me: I’m missing you.
Sir: I miss you.
Me: OH MY GOD THE ICE CREAM TRUCK IS OUTSIDE
Me: OH MY GOD
Me: But I’m in my underwear
Me: NOOOOOOO
Sir: You are such a little girl, it’s not even funny.
“Life makes fools of all of us sooner or later. But keep your sense of humor and you’ll at least be able to take your humiliations with some measure of grace.” ― Paul Murray, Skippy Dies.
Lana is what Sweetheart wants to be when she’s a big girl.
Um. I am a big girl. Sheesh.
Somebody says I own way too many “sweetheart” outfits and not enough “big girl” clothing.
Pfft. Whatever.
“Don’t you ever tell me you’re calling my bluff, sweetheart.”
Turns out he wasn’t bluffing.
I’d elaborate but I’m kind of dying of blushies.
I would pout and whine and fuss if I had to wear something like this, but I can’t deny its appeal.
And by that I mean, uh, how about the next party we go to, I let you pick out my outfit?
Or at least, you know, the accessories.
Pet wearing the G1 waist belt and cuffs. These are available through my shop.
sirn.etsy.com
Me: Ugh, being a grownup is a lot.
Me: My phone keeps trying to autocorrect grownup to frowny pie.
Daddy: Frowny pie?
Me: Being a grownup is being a frowny pie.