Ta-da! First post on my brand-new computer! It's going to be a learning curve; everything looks different and all the stuff I used to do by rote isn't quite the same. I'm fumbling with this new keyboard, too, but my fingers will get used to it, I'm sure. I still don't have my Office 2010 set up yet. I decided to download it, since you can't buy the damn disks anymore in the stores and I didn't want Office 2013, because that's supposedly upgraded to be more user-friendly with Windows 8, which I did NOT get (I got 7). However, when I bought the download, I was informed that I will be sent an activation key -- within 3 to 24 hours. (groan) I was hoping to get it set up with my tech guy was still here to make sure I didn't screw it up, but I'll do my best. Meanwhile, people teased me for having a tech come over and set everything up, but it turned out to be quite a bit of work, what with the file transfers, downloading the programs I lost (WinZip, Picasa, Panda Cloud, MalWareBytes, etc.), connecting everything, reloading the printer drivers, and so on. He was here for nearly three hours, but only charged me for 2 1/2. I would have happily paid more.
So! Everything is super fast, my new flat screen looks fabulous, and I'm enjoying the simple luxuries (like speakers that actually work, instead of cutting out, then cutting back and forth between the two). I ran a quick scan for Malware, just to see how long it would take. On my old computer, the "quick" version took over an hour. On this system, it took about a minute and a half. Hallelujah!
But now I need to tear my fevered mind off this new toy and catch up with last night's session with Mr. D. After last week, I was more than ready for play. He asked me if there was anything he could do to ramp things up a bit, make it even better for me. I thought about it for a minute. "Yes," I said. "Scold me more. Tell me I'm a bad girl first, then a good girl later. Push me a little. Discipline me." I do love Topspeak, as predictable as it can be sometimes. Mr. D is learning it, but doesn't use it very often. So, since he asked, right?
He took me seriously, and did little things to challenge me. For example, I do not like to part my legs. For one thing, I'm always afraid I'm going to get struck in the parts that are more exposed if I do. But for another, I just don't like to do it, especially not at parties with people all around gawking, or with partners I know only casually. But Mr. D and I have been together for some time now. And let's face it -- I'm pretty open anyway, even with my legs closed. I know he can see everything. I prefer not to think about it. Why I'm so modest about that, I don't know. But I just am. Still can't stand to watch myself on video when the camera is straight on.
Anyway, when I was OTK and had my legs firmly clamped together, he pushed them open. I clamped them back shut. "No," he said firmly, pushing them back open. "Yes!" I snapped, slamming them shut yet again. "I know you're self-conscious," he said, "and I won't take pictures when you're exposed. But I'm your top. I get to see what I want." "No, you don't," I retorted, and closed my legs again. Clearly, the battle of wills was on.
He responded with a very hard and fast flurry, then nudged them apart again. "Go ahead, defy me. I dare you." So I did. More flurry, longer than before. Again with the nudging apart. "Go ahead, defy me."
Now I ask you, readers. If I'm supposed to obey my top, and he tells me to defy him, then shouldn't I defy him? I mean, if he says "defy me" and I don't, isn't that defiant? I decided to err on the side of caution and defied him. This went on for several more rounds, until I was so out of breath and burning, I couldn't take any more. This time, when he opened my legs once again, I grit my teeth, but held position. "Good girl," he crooned. And sure enough, after a minute, he let me close them. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" "No," I grumbled. "But I still don't like it." "You don't have to like it," he smiled. "I won't make you like it. But I do." Arrgh.
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Damned underwear tag! I really need to remember to cut those out -- or remember to ask Mr. D to please tuck them in before shooting.
Once in my room, things ratcheted up with implements. I hadn't felt the Delrin cane for quite some time. If you look at my hands clutching the bedspread, you'll know my reaction to it.
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He did. "Tell me how you feel right now," he asked, after I'd calmed down.
Hard for me to formulate coherent thoughts afterward. But I answered, "I feel like the world has stopped. There's nothing else but this moment, and no one else except you and me." That's exactly how it feels... the entire universe shrinks down to my bedroom, or my living room. For a while, I have no responsibilities. All I have to do is be with the sweet peace.
Later, we went to dinner, which we haven't done for a while. As I was getting ready to leave, I saw him staring at his right hand. He caught my eye and grinned, holding it out. Sure enough, in one of the creases in his palm, I saw a faint mark. Not as drastic as some of the ones I've left, but this was his first. Guess it was all that extra whaling, what with my obeying his command to defy him and all. I took a couple of pictures, but they didn't come out well and didn't show the mark properly.
But I definitely assed his hand. :-D (I do believe I can thank Ten for that term?)
"You're pretty damn proud of yourself, aren't you?" "Yup!" I said cheerfully. "Don't feel bad," I added. "It's a rite of passage, with my tops." He seemed to like that. At least I didn't draw blood, right?
I'm a good girl, I am. :-)
So! Everything is super fast, my new flat screen looks fabulous, and I'm enjoying the simple luxuries (like speakers that actually work, instead of cutting out, then cutting back and forth between the two). I ran a quick scan for Malware, just to see how long it would take. On my old computer, the "quick" version took over an hour. On this system, it took about a minute and a half. Hallelujah!
But now I need to tear my fevered mind off this new toy and catch up with last night's session with Mr. D. After last week, I was more than ready for play. He asked me if there was anything he could do to ramp things up a bit, make it even better for me. I thought about it for a minute. "Yes," I said. "Scold me more. Tell me I'm a bad girl first, then a good girl later. Push me a little. Discipline me." I do love Topspeak, as predictable as it can be sometimes. Mr. D is learning it, but doesn't use it very often. So, since he asked, right?
He took me seriously, and did little things to challenge me. For example, I do not like to part my legs. For one thing, I'm always afraid I'm going to get struck in the parts that are more exposed if I do. But for another, I just don't like to do it, especially not at parties with people all around gawking, or with partners I know only casually. But Mr. D and I have been together for some time now. And let's face it -- I'm pretty open anyway, even with my legs closed. I know he can see everything. I prefer not to think about it. Why I'm so modest about that, I don't know. But I just am. Still can't stand to watch myself on video when the camera is straight on.
Anyway, when I was OTK and had my legs firmly clamped together, he pushed them open. I clamped them back shut. "No," he said firmly, pushing them back open. "Yes!" I snapped, slamming them shut yet again. "I know you're self-conscious," he said, "and I won't take pictures when you're exposed. But I'm your top. I get to see what I want." "No, you don't," I retorted, and closed my legs again. Clearly, the battle of wills was on.
He responded with a very hard and fast flurry, then nudged them apart again. "Go ahead, defy me. I dare you." So I did. More flurry, longer than before. Again with the nudging apart. "Go ahead, defy me."
Now I ask you, readers. If I'm supposed to obey my top, and he tells me to defy him, then shouldn't I defy him? I mean, if he says "defy me" and I don't, isn't that defiant? I decided to err on the side of caution and defied him. This went on for several more rounds, until I was so out of breath and burning, I couldn't take any more. This time, when he opened my legs once again, I grit my teeth, but held position. "Good girl," he crooned. And sure enough, after a minute, he let me close them. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" "No," I grumbled. "But I still don't like it." "You don't have to like it," he smiled. "I won't make you like it. But I do." Arrgh.
Damned underwear tag! I really need to remember to cut those out -- or remember to ask Mr. D to please tuck them in before shooting.
Once in my room, things ratcheted up with implements. I hadn't felt the Delrin cane for quite some time. If you look at my hands clutching the bedspread, you'll know my reaction to it.
With the implements flying, he let me keep my legs closed. I was grateful. "Don't you move those legs," he threatened. "The only thing you're allowed to do is curl your toes." It made me aware of just how much I kick, flail my feet (particularly the left one, for whatever reason) around, etc. Considering that I was trying to wrap my brain around the sensations, after a two-week gap, this extra instruction was a challenge. I think I did pretty well. But the cane did me in.
"You're done," he whispered, collecting up the weapons of ass destruction and putting them away. I curled up, crying, waiting for him to come tend to me.
Hard for me to formulate coherent thoughts afterward. But I answered, "I feel like the world has stopped. There's nothing else but this moment, and no one else except you and me." That's exactly how it feels... the entire universe shrinks down to my bedroom, or my living room. For a while, I have no responsibilities. All I have to do is be with the sweet peace.
Later, we went to dinner, which we haven't done for a while. As I was getting ready to leave, I saw him staring at his right hand. He caught my eye and grinned, holding it out. Sure enough, in one of the creases in his palm, I saw a faint mark. Not as drastic as some of the ones I've left, but this was his first. Guess it was all that extra whaling, what with my obeying his command to defy him and all. I took a couple of pictures, but they didn't come out well and didn't show the mark properly.
But I definitely assed his hand. :-D (I do believe I can thank Ten for that term?)
"You're pretty damn proud of yourself, aren't you?" "Yup!" I said cheerfully. "Don't feel bad," I added. "It's a rite of passage, with my tops." He seemed to like that. At least I didn't draw blood, right?
I'm a good girl, I am. :-)