There was an unusual occasion where Grumpy had a short day at work yesterday and he messaged me when he found out. Another message came shortly after. “Maybe we can take this early day and do a longer play session???” The message arrived shortly after I had thought the same. As required by his assignment, he was going to have to request T&D prior to 11pm so my brain started hatching plans , then back up plans and another plan for my back up plan.  I am a planner and well… Grumpy is a skilled plan assassin. Needless to say nothing went according to any of my three plans, but that is an entirely different subject.

Among the many things I consider myself some are, Key Holder, Domme, and….. Sadist. That last one scares people. Reasonably so, I guess for most. Lots of people in BDSM practice a little bit of sadomasochism but well.. I am a really heavy sadist.  Really early on when Grumpy and I first started seeing each other he had expressed that he was afraid he was never going to be enough of a masochist for me. I was never clear if that was because he could feel me holding back or my reputation, but its something he’s been working on. He’s made amazing progress! Not all that long ago he got to feel ‘sub space’ for the first time. That was also the first time in a very very long time that I got to feel ‘sadist space’ again. It was one of our longer sessions that time as well.

I don’t think it took very long for me to get there, a few hours maybe. I’d had the intention of binding him, beating him for a bit. Then go check on the roast , maybe have a smoke, then go beat him some more. All of that happened. When I returned, he hadn’t cooled down so I didn’t really need to warm him back up. Within a few minutes, I’d lost my concept of time. The giggling stopped and he was the only thing in the world that existed to me. When the blood came, I think I stopped existing to me even. I could have been walking on broken glass and not realized it. Sadist space is a funny thing. I still monitor his condition. Things like how quickly he’s breathing , the temperature of his hands and feet ( or what ever else I have all bound up) I still even verbally check in with him. Though while writing this its occurred to me that I failed to keep him hydrated and thats something I am particular about during play. Shoot! Oh well, anyhow… I had planed to play for a few hours. It turned into something close to 4.5 hours. I had planned to check on the roast more often. 6 months ago he would have never been able to take 4.5 hours of my near constant attentions. He has put so much effort in to making sure my needs get met….. And THATS why its his fault the roast was overcooked.






One thought on “Its his fault the roast was overcooked!

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