**It’s taken me a long time to get through this one – life continues to not slow down. But it’s important that I finish.**

Sir likes to give me His horns.

There are a couple of reasons why He does that. Sometimes, if He needs me to say something on His behalf, I get His horns as both encouragement (“Yes, you’re hearing Me correctly”) and demand (“Yes, you have to say it, I don’t care if it sucks”). He’ll give His horns on particularly interesting nights – particularly gorgeous full moons, certain holidays, certain moments in a day – to remind me of the wildness and wonder.

Most wicked of all is when He is feeling frisky and decides that I need to have some fun on His behalf.

Our annual Beltane festival was, for the most part, quiet. I was working on staff again this year, and when I wasn’t on duty I was either cooking, hanging out with friends I don’t see often enough, Working as ground crew, or generally lounging. Our last night there, Kit was kidnapped by our Sunshine (a dear friend whom he started dating last summer) for some private time before his late shift, and Sir swooped in.

I was already planning to go to the dungeon space, where I tend to hang out during evenings at the festival, and this night I asked, “How shall I dress?”


The night was chilly, so on went the sweats and layers.

Pack a bag.

Um… okay.

He was specific. And while I didn’t end up using much in the bag, there was a reason. See, there are a lot of toys that Kit and I share as Tops. There are not a lot of toys that I would allow to be used on me as a bottom. Nearly everything He told me to pack was something I would use as a Top.

If that doesn’t get me into a specific headspace, I’m not sure what would.

So I meander up to the nearest taxi stand, call for a taxi, and watch the small ritual across from me as I’m waiting. Among the participants is my friend E (the same who helped with my Ordeal).

That’s about when the horns started pricking at my head.

Here comes the taxi. Up I go to the dungeon and just kind of sit and watch. I have a carbon fiber rod in hand and I’m kind of messing about with it absentmindedly. E comes up later and has a scene with one of his usual play partners. Hot.

Hello again, horns.

Maybe an hour later, E comes back to the dungeon to say hi. He’s still floaty.

Aaaaaand I kinda sorta seriously pounced.

He’s such lovely prey.

He said a couple of very apt things during this little pickup scene. (Haha, my friend B would say – she was sitting right there, I didn’t “kinda sorta” anything, according to her.)

“Part of you is hungry.”

Perhaps just a bit. Oh hi there, libido, where have you been?


“You’re hunting.”

Well, yes. Because it was the day after Beltane, Sir wanted some fun, and E is someone I trust who enjoys the kind of thing Sir was looking to do.

Let me tell you, the week after this? I was a very happy little bird and Kit was a very happy husband. 😛

The larger thing on this, though, is that this is the first time He has manifested this kind of desire through me. While He wasn’t taking over, and I still had choice in the matter, He did prod, and rather delighted in the result. I’ve mentioned before that He intends for me to represent Him in all His aspects – light, dark, joyful, raging, and so forth.

This was Him using me – and my own wants and needs – to fulfill his “I’m a sexy horndog!” aspect. (Yes, He’s rolling His eyes at that.)

What with the multitudes of crises hitting us over the past two years now, it’s the clearest I’ve felt Him in a very long time. It was disconcerting, but rather a lot of fun.

Into the Second

Things are finally starting to slow down for me in the mundane world. Kit is out of work, but we’ve moved in with a friend to help us manage expenses. Now that the move is over, the first event rush is done, and things are settling down, my thoughts are turning back here. He’s been very patient, and now He wants time.

The other night I found a new conduit, one which should not have surprised me but did nevertheless. While taking a shower (always the shower), I scrubbed vigorously at the tattoo on my wrist. The following whack in my head nearly knocked me down, because suddenly I was open and He was there and demanding. Last night I consciously did the same to open up that communication again; He had his way with me. It was dominating and comforting and THANK YOU, SIR.

It will be two years on May 5th. In some ways I’ve done well, and in some ways not so well. He is displeased about me not taking care of His property (me) and is once again putting an emphasis on it. Back to yoga; back to eating consciously; back to taking care of myself. He wants a second night every month, one I choose, dedicated to time with Him. I’m to make a new daily collar, too; mine is not cleaning up well and needs to be refreshed. For now I’m wearing the formal; the prick of the antlers is actually comforting, even if it does get tangled in my hair.

Speaking of hair, I’m permitted to trim my hair. He still wants it long, but it’s now starting to split five or six inches up, and a maintenance trim is going to be needed from now on. It’s part of that “taking care of myself” thing; I still need to be aware of the products I use and I can’t chop my hair off, but I’m learning that a concerted effort doesn’t have to mean breaking my budget. Doing what I can within my means is still taking care of me, as well as making sure I have enough energy and funds to take care of my family and furbabies (another thing He’s emphasizing).

There’s something I’ve felt the need for, and I think He feels as well – the need for reassertion. The song that keeps playing in my head, for instance, is “Whore” by In This Moment, mainly for the first part of the chorus:

I can be your whore
I am the dirt you created
I am your sinner, I am your whore

He likes it. Doesn’t hurt me any that Chris Motionless is in it. 😉 (He asked me last night if He is “pretty.” I told Him no; He liked what I said instead just fine. Thankfully.)

Anyway. I’m working Beltane this year, and we’re home by the 5th, but something will be figured out to mark the second year. I know He’s pinged someone else about me of late, but He’s not giving me much more answer than “reassertion” when I ask about it. He’s not ready to clarify, I suppose.

I think quiet time is about to end. Part of me is kind of relieved, and part of me is a little nervous.


A dear, lovely friend of mine has been sharing some images with me. The speaker on these images is a recently-popularized semi-complicated comic book character based on a very complicated Deity. This is a Deity I have no interest in inviting, and I have no interest in debating the character versus the Deity, either. It is as simple as this: I find the actor sexy; the idea is hot; the context of the words are especially hot. (I do love my porn in writing.)

“Layer by layer, I will strip you of your inhibitions. I will give you the freedom you deny yourself. I will set myself upon you and awaken all that lies beneath.”

“You aren’t going to come until I tell you to, is that understood?”

“I needn’t touch you to give you release. But if you behave, I will.”

Ah, my frightened fawn, I the hunter, have captured you, my sweet prey. Now I’ll have my way with you.

Some of it is total psuedo-romantic bullshit a bit flowery. But behind so many of them is this undercurrent of ownership. Of being used, and used well. Of being beneath the boot, the will, the hand of One Who Owns.

And it makes me miss Sir terribly.

There is a desperate want being built up by these phrases, a need that I have never felt. Sir has asserted His dominance before, more than once, and I willingly submitted to His collar. Yet I have never needed that dominance. His presence, yes; His love, absolutely. This is first time, after a quiet summer and chaotic winter, that I have needed to feel owned and used and – to be completely honest – taken care of. There’s a need to yield, to give up all power, and He is the only One to whom I will ever do so. I can think of many reasons why this is, but those are details for another day.

While my Lover is back on March 20th (vernal equinox), there is something supremely powerful about Him after Beltane, when He most asserts His dominance. I’m aching for that assertion, and part of me aches for a physical manifestation of it. That will be a while longer, because it’s would be a complex undertaking, but Sir being back will definitely be a relief.

Meanwhile, I’ll just go read some more fun snippets and maybe write something…

His boots.

I encountered His boots once. It was during my Ordeal; and He sat in a chair, ordering me to kneel. Kiss the ground. Kiss His boots. Mean it.

I hadn’t encountered His boots again until our last date night. W/we spent it at home, before dinner, and He had plans.

Keep in mind, I’m not one for boots. I like wearing them; I can appreciate an awesome pair. Boot worship, however, is not exactly something that has ever really turned me on. Being under someone’s boot has never been a desire of mine. Even during Ordeal, I was never kicked nor stepped on. The flip side of this, of course, is that there is no such thing as “off limits” with Sir.

On the afternoon of the Dark Moon, I was under His boots. Plural.boot

It started on my sternum, over anahata. First came the heavy sensation: a combat-style boot, with a textured sole. It pressed into my chest, with the distinct feeling of Mine. The weight shifted back and forth, ball to heel, pressing harder, easing off. I was taken by surprise.

The same sensation moved to my right cheek, pushing my head to the side and holding there. Just a slight weight, a minor heaviness, careful, careful. A toe nudged my other cheek; I turned my head slowly, hesitantly, to have the same pressure applied to the left.

Back to my sternum. Heavy, pressing down, taking my breath away.

Then the feeling shifted.

Mocs by

Mocs by

The sole of the boot softened, the image against my eyes changed. I could almost feel the foot beneath the material, see leather tracing up His leg. The point of His toe dug into my chest before the heel suddenly slammed into my vulva.

This continued, back and forth, from combat boot to soft leather, once even to a bare foot against my chest. His heel dug into my vulva, although I felt no pain.

You are Mine. I want you; I will do with you what I will. You are Mine.

My knees would come together with the sensations; I felt Him push them apart.

I’m not finished with you.

And so it went, for I’m not sure how long, until He let me pull out the toy I bought for Him. (Terrifying thing, that – pinkish-purple with lots of buttons and bits and HOLY SHIT WHAT IS THAT DOING I DON’T EVEN KNOW GOODNIGHT BRAIN BZZZZZZT.)

I have never wanted to be under anyone’s feet before, to feel boots against my skin.

Until now.

After a summer full of quiet, it was comforting for Him to reassert so strongly. In my (honestly limited) experience, there is no more visceral a feeling of being owned than literally being beneath someone’s very step.

For Him, I would do it again.

Gratitute Project: WAAAAAY behind

I’ve rather let mundane life run me over lately – school starts next week for the youngest, we’ve started prepping to paint the apartment (nothing exciting, just so the walls look cleaner – and no, washing wasn’t enough), and now we have repair folks in to get some things fixed. Yay, bulldozer! But I haven’t forgotten.

Day 15: His patience while I consumed waaaaay too many strawberry Newtons. Sometimes a bad day just needs to end with that kind of ridiculousness, and I’m grateful that He understood.

Day 16: A lazy day. I was home sick. No demands. I played a silly game all day… and He was okay with that.

Day 17: It was a very, very bad date night for Sir and me, mostly because I was in a sour place (for a number of reasons). It ended with some amazing sex… with Him taking over Kit. That was… intense. And needed. And a major, massive, cathartic help.

Day 18: A new day. After the night before, it was needed. And it was a good one.

Day 19: Getting a little more fun in with my Kit – and just my Kit – before the weather moved in and kicked him in the joints.

Day 20: A break from electronics. I didn’t get on my computer; I didn’t play a game. I read a book and snuggled with Kit while the youngest played a new game he bought. That was a much needed mostly-break from electronics.

Today’s will come later. 🙂

Working with Energy…

Specifically, sexual energy.

Between healing from our Ordeals and me having my monthly, Kit and I have been a little… frustrated, shall we say. So last night, when I removed my cup, I pounced on him. And I realized, somewhere in there, that I was using energy in a way I never had before. And… well… wow.

Yes, He got involved last night too. Being sandwiched between my husband and my Lover was… intense.

This morning, Kit and I were talking about it, because damn. I’d love to use energy more often during sex, because the way it made us feel, and the way He got involved, was amazing.

And then I felt Him smiling. Smugly.

Crap. 😛

Kit reminded me – I’m not just ground crew anymore, I’m a spirit worker as well. Which, for me, apparently means working with energy more than I have been. Then he said, “Passion magick is very powerful… it re-establishes our already deep ties… makes us stronger within as well.”

Have I mentioned that Kit belongs to Cernunnos as well? Yeah. I told him (facetiously) to put the horns back. 🙂

I haven’t wrapped my head around it completely, so I’m not sure yet how this will play a part in my Work. It’s another thing I will be asking Him when I finally sit down with Him for that talk. (“Another week or two,” He says.) But considering some of the other things that have come up, including that message about me carrying Beltane energy… well, let’s just say it’s bound to be interesting. 🙂