I don’t usually share much about my family life in this space, but since it kind of informs how I spent my weekend, I’ll share a bit.
My routine is in a bit of an upheaval, and subject to even more change in the upcoming weeks. On Thursday, my 15 (soon-to-be-16) year-old son moved in with Ad and I. Ever since Ad and I moved to the county, my son has lived mostly at his dad’s during the school year, just as the Missy did, because their school is in the city near where the Ex lives.
But Thursday night he and his father had a (long-time coming) altercation that resulted in the mutual decision to have the Boychild move in with me. (That his daughter also made this decision, and is still living with me 90% of the time, has not made the Ex see that perhaps he has an issue that needs to be addressed. But that’s not really my problem anymore.) His father seems to think that this is an experiment and I’ll soon realize just how rotten a kid my son is and will beg him to let the Boychild move back in with him. While this could be true (I can’t know what it will be like to have him home full-time), I am going to hazard a guess that it won’t be. I fully believe that the Boychild will now be living with me/us until he goes away to college. And–oddly, since it means an abrupt & not-altogether appreciated change in my heretofore beloved routine–I am pretty happy about it. I may end up changing my mind…but I don’t think so.
In addition, the Missy is also making some changes, and moving into a little efficiency apartment that Ad owns. It has been used as a storage unit mostly since his father moved out of it, but about 4 months ago I let her know that when she was ready, the apartment could be hers. Not asking or even suggesting she move out, but letting her know that when she’s ready, it’s there. Cheap, close enough to not be too scary, but her own place. Last week she asked if we could talk about her moving there in October. I’m so proud of her/excited for her!
So. Lots of changes on the home front.
The result of all this change (and the intense/at times heated discussion between the Ex and I as all of this has been negotiated) was that by Friday night I was badly in need of some time away. Away from the house, from the kids, from my Ex.
I badly needed a distraction.
So I headed over to W’s, my home-away-from-home, my refuge when I need space, when I need perspective, when I need somewhere to go to escape. As always, W came thru in spades in providing me this much-needed distraction.
Friday night we had drinks on the patio, lots of talk, and a short but intense pseudo-crucifixion-ish scene in the basement, after which he ended up fucking me on the floor, grinding my back and hips into the concrete and making me forget everything we’d been talking about only an hour before.
And then, Friday night, he made me a bed in the cage–and slept there, all night.
Sleeping in the cage was a different experience for me. He hasn’t had me do so before, mostly because I think he kinda likes having my naked (and occasionally high-heel-shod) body next to him whenever he reaches out. But he kept me close, sleeping on the couch next to my cage, and I woke several times to find his hand touching me thru the bars. So sweet. It was also very comforting to me. Kind of like being held tight when I am feeling emotionally strung-out or frantic, it is very soothing and calming to me to be in small, enclosed spaces. If it had been cooler weather, I think I even would have liked to have had a blanket over the top, shutting out the world. But as it was, the bars were enough to shut me away from the worries that world had foisted on me in the last 48 hours.
By morning time, I was ready to have my world re-kinkified, and W was more than happy to reintroduce me to my true purpose in his life: as his sex toy, his slut, his fuckmeat Jade. But first, he brought me coffee and toast and even my toothbrush. That’s right, he had to wait on me. I loved the irony of that, but as he posted on Fet, “It was worth it.”
I was also not released to go pee. Yup, had to do it in the cage. Me to W: “Are you really gonna make me do this?” (Pointing to my “toilet,” an old peanut butter jar.) Him: “Yup.” He thought it was funny to make my “toilet” be my “sink” for rinsing my toothpastey mouth as well.
In case you’re wondering–I brushed my teeth first.
And no, I’m not going to post a picture of that.
In the “fun things you can do in a cage category,” W very nearly fisted me thru the bars while I laid next to him that morning. Him, later: “If I’d had lube…” Of course when he said that, since we’d been talking about toys and such recently, my imagination went wild. If he’d had lube, what would he have shoved in my cunt as I lay there, helpless in the cage? I envisioned my legs tied open to the bars and a hard wooden toy in my cunt, another in my ass. Or maybe my new, nearly unused Njoy Wand, or maybe, maybe…the wooden bowling pin?? Oh for want of a bottle of lube, the moment was lost…
Okay, not entirely “lost.” The man does a mean hand-and-finger fuck. He finger-and-hand fucked me, spreading me open with his fingers inside me, shoving almost all of them into me, and rubbing me till I was literally raw and sore.
And completely satiated.
So then I had normal people stuff to do. What a juxtaposition my life is! I get tied up, get myself fucked on the dirty basement floor and nearly fisted to rawness the next morning after sleeping in a cage, then head out for a facial that afternoon. And come home to take care of a picture request for a very special friend. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves about what this request involved.
At least he didn’t get it all over my hair and face, like he did before. (Yeah, he’s a real sweetie, isn’t he?) There was also a large, rusty, 10 lb steel weight thing involved at one point. He covered it with a condom and used it…in ways I believe it wasn’t meant to be used. It was disgusting and degrading.
Aaaaand…I came like a banshee, almost crying at the injustice of it as I did so. My body just doesn’t know the difference between right and wrong. I’m not supposed to be excited by watching his hand as it pumps that disgusting thing into me. I’m supposed to be horrified and disgusted. But the more horrified I am, the wronger my brain tells my body it is, the hotter I get.
Fucking stupid body.
So then after all that he decided to tie my cunt closed, attach bells to it, put tit collars on me, put me in a sexy dress, and take me out to a local event.
Okay, okay…confession time. I wish it was he that had decided to do those things. Because confessing to the truth–that it was all my idea–makes me sound…well. Like some kind of attention-slut, right? And heaven forbid anyone should think that of me! (Ha!) But yeah, yeah, it actually was me that came up with the idea. Yep, I asked him to lace the ribbon thru my rings, tie bells on and find the metal tit collars that a friend made for me so that I could wear them out. Of course he was more than willing to do so, and even took pictures so that I could share it with you.
You’ll just have to wait until Wednesday to see the rest of what was beneath my dress though. ;-)
So anyway! That was my weekend. Well, except for kissing a cute girl at the event, reconnecting with an ex-girlfriend from almost ten years ago (not the girl I kissed!) and then coming home to some hot hot hot ass-fucking.
(Short synop: He grabs me by the hair the moment we get into the house, drags me upstairs, tells me to bend over the bed, shoves my dress up and proceeds to “make my bells ring” by fucking me in the ass. And every time the bells stopped tinkling he would growl at me, “Make those fucking bells ring!” Which I would then proceed to do with alacrity. I crashed with tit collars, bells and heels still on, only waking hours later when I rolled over onto the collars and they jabbed into me painfully.)
Oh yeah, W distracted me something good all weekend.