BIKSS and I are in our 50s. We met in 1988 but it took us 24 years before hooking up in 2012. We moved into a DD/lg dynamic a year later. In April 2015 some shit hit the fan. We took some time off but eventually found a new us.
I used to live alone except for a few shifting years when my folks moved in then out, then after dad passed on, mum moved in again. Now that she too has passed, it's just me, one carer whom I've decided to keep on, and my tenant.
He lives with his family. This is us.
I've been reading the news and catching up on the horror that's unfolding in Marawi. It's not all that far away from me, on account that I live in Asia and there are many Filipinos who live and work here alongside the locals.
It feels like recently my world news feed has been besieged with even more bombings and killings and other terribly depressing events than usual.
And my mind suddenly reaches into the depths of its memory to recall a song I loved and sang often in my youth. Now more than ever the world needs prayers and positive vibes and faith - Faith that this too shall pass, and that we won't become a broken people, a broken earth.
A few nights ago we went out to dinner because this needy lidl girl (that's how he spells it - after the store in Germany) wanted to wear a pretty dress and go out with Daddy.
After that we walked around the basement of the mall in search of laundry detergent. Sexy huh?
Well, needs must.
Along the way I had stopped to look at drool over some chocolate cake sitting really pretty in a refrigerated glass case of a coffee shop. BIKSS had walked on ahead and I was half jogging to catch up when I heard a "chooooo choooo" coming from somewhere in his direction.
A kiddy-ride train was approaching! And the driver wasn't the smiliest of people.
"Did you make that choo choo sound?"
"Yup."
"Why'd you make that choo choo sound daddy?
"Cos the train driver sure wasn't going to! And every train needs a choo choo."
"You need to be careful that you're not in "playing with lidl girl" mode when you're not out with lidl girl you know... people will look at you strange."
And I'm back from my "diagnostic tests" session. That's what it said on the sign going to the treatment rooms anyway.
The spiro test result came out normal... after I failed to get the thing to read anything the first 2 times.
"Get a good seal around the top" my doctor said. Erm. "Yes, I know it's quite big so you really have to open your mouth and cover the whole ..."
And at this point I nodded and practised breathing deep breaths and he shut up and let me get to it, thankfully. I mean, of course it's hard for me to do, I'm usually sucking, not blowing!!
If you don't know what a spirometer is, the mouthpiece of the one I used looks exactly like this:
The white tube is the disposable bit. That's the part you have to wrap your lips around and blow into. Eventually we got a readable graph and it turned out all good.
That done, I went to get started on the ECG (some of you know it as EKG). My doc left the treatment room and I was left alone with the tech. Since I'm staff (at a different branch) she made a little bit of small talk and asked a few questions about work and how things were going. And if I had done this for any of the patients at my branch and if we were using the same machine etc. I said I didn't have the foggiest how to work it, so she offered to show me how to set up the test in case I ever needed to do it on my end. She thought it might be useful for me to know.
Never one to refuse an opportunity to learn something I said yes, and ended up using my own naked torso as the specimen on which she would explain where to place the leads (sticky sticker things you paste on your skin) and how to attach the wires (to said sticky sticker things).
I'm grateful that I'm missing the 'embarrassment gene' BIKSS insists exists in regular people. I suppose most people (women, I mean) might feel a little awkward at using their own left boob and nipple to learn the correct placement of the stickers while someone stands over them and points away.
She did say I didn't have to remove my clothing, as long as I loosened my bra and lifted it and my shirt up over my boobs, but then I thought that felt a little too weird, like being clothed but at the same time exposed despite it. Didn't sit well with me, so I just took everything off.
I had never seen an ECG being done, nor ever known what it entailed (being half naked). So this was quite the experience. The actual test - lying still for 10 seconds and not talking - was the easy part.
And for your reference, here's a pic of where the 6 chest leads go:
"Centre left and right," she tells me, "then one here below the nipple line, one between this one (she points to the second one) and the nipple line, one at the side (she points to my side) and one between the nipple line and the side."
As I was repeating it back to her while she helped me along, I couldn't help but think to myself, I've never heard anyone say "nipple" to me so many times in the span of 5 minutes! Not even BIKSS!
But on to the good news!
After that was done I took the readout back to my doctor and he chuckled good-naturedly in not-so-mock-disbelief and amusement.
"These machines are known to be notoriously over-calibrated. For most people the read-out comes with a nice long essay at the bottom of what's going on in the heart. I have to convince them it's normal, nothing's wrong, and the machine is just being overly detailed in listing out even the slightest deviations. Your read-out says Normal ECG. No essay at the bottom. In machine-speak that's like saying your heart is perfect. All the values have to fall within a really tiny range for it to declare you normal. So you're good. Better than good. You can carry on smoking."
YAY!!!
OK, I'm NOT going to carry on smoking. But I'm not going to say I've quit either. Over the last week I've had some smokes when I was with my smoking friends. But I don't keep a pack on me all the time anymore. And it's working out good.
I have one more test to go, a 2D echo that's been scheduled for the middle of next month. So I'll be back with more updates.
After all that medical stuff was over I had one more stop. My IPL appointment. Brazilian here I come!
Post-zapping I sent BIKSS a text to ask how busy he was and whether he could escape for a bit of a tryst. No dice. He was stuck at work.
Ah well, Daddy can't always help with EVERYTHING! I just never thought "not getting sex" was one of them.
*Here's a shout out to Roz - how did your spiro go?*
I mentioned on a comment yesterday that I would update on the health situation. So here it is.
Last Tuesday on the way to work I had the chills, started sweating for no reason, and couldn't seem to focus. I got off the bus. I've passed out from low BP enough to recognise the signs. I sat at the bus stop while I got mum to send the live-in help over with the wheelchair. I went straight to the Doc's but she couldn't find anything wrong with me, save a low-ish BP and heart rate reading. The verdict - maybe I'm fighting off an infection. Just a bothersome prodrome that might not turn into anything nasty, she says.
After spending the day in bed, I felt better and went in to work the next morning. My boss is also a doctor. He can't figure out what's happening with me either. And was in agreement with the prodrome assessment.
I, however, am a digger. If I don't get a good answer, I don't get satisfied. You see, this isn't an isolated incident. I haven't been feeling 100% over the last few months, and the instances of feeling icky are becoming more frequent. I'm swinging between feeling faint, and having heart palpitations. Thankfully the numbness-in-fingertips-when-cold has stopped, possibly because the weather has turned super warm.
This is what I have so far: -
I did a body fat analysis. I'm all good. No visible visceral fat, and the rest of me has a healthy 26.5% of fat. My BMI is also in the middle of the healthy range. So, no, I'm not underweight, I'm not starving myself, I'm not anorexic.
I did a blood test early this year. Levels are all good. The triglyceride problem I had 2 years ago is now definitely a thing of the past. According to my boss, I'm "disgustingly healthy". That's the anaemia option out the window.
My BP is consistently low. On a regular day it's somewhere in the 90/60 range and my heart rate is anywhere from 60 to 75. On its own, nothing to be worried about cos it's been this way for more than 2 decades.
I did a blood oxygen finger clip test (SpO2) - 96% - which is normal. I was wondering if the smoking was killing me. Doc isn't convinced that the smoking has anything to do with what's happening.
So now I've got a spirometry test and an echocardiogram scheduled for Friday. And possibly an ECG.
And maybe a blood panel to check for perimenopause. I'm 44. Could happen.
I want it to be something I can name. It's a lot easier when I can put a label on something - even if it's not something that can be "cured" or "treated" except maybe symptomatically.
The other thing, he says, it might be is S-T-R-E-S-S. And I hate that word. There's no CURE for stress. And I can't remove the stressors. (I admit, there are stressors... )
But so for now, I smoke less. Maybe not anymore, after I'm done with this pack. Drink more water. Walk less briskly. Eat more salted chips. Sleep a little earlier.
And hope the fainting spells and heart-thumping go away.
... seems to be the theme of my life these couple of months.
Learning about dementia, learning about the people I thought I knew (who I'm finding out now are really evil and mean!)... now that I have a new part time job, learning how to do new things, learning ABOUT how stuff gets done...
And last night, learning that when things get all pent up inside this girl there IS a way for me to find release.
I was feeling particularly needy. I blame ovulation.
So when the horny monster inside wanted to come out and play I, like any normal desperate person, went and surfed on Tumblr.
I came across some interesting stuff and that inspired me to offer Daddy a panty-less outing since we were going out to watch the game together last night.
Which made him excited. Which made ME excited - that he was excited. And round and round it goes. You get the picture.
We hung out at a pub that was showing the match and left about 2/3 way into the game cos it was a sure win anyway. His team had already secured their place on the charts and this was the final match of the season. Whatever the outcome, they were set.
They were doing well, 3 goals ahead of the opponent. So we decided to get some naughty play time in. After all, I was revved up having had his fingers inside me in the car earlier. (*Wink Wink Nudge Nudge*)
We went to that by-the-hour place from 2 posts ago, and things got hot and heavy really quickly.
After the first couple of rounds we settled down to rest and cuddle and watch telly. We talked about D/s, and how I felt that it was slowly disappearing from our lives, he was reassuring and reminded me all the ways it was still present. And I was already feeling a little weepy by then, I suppose. But crying is JUST NOT DONE! Especially when we're having a good time, right? (I can hear the groans and see all you Blogland folk rolling your eyeballs at me, along with the accompanying headshakes.)
But well, silly little girl that I was, being strong was the thing to do. Keep it together. Hold down the fort. Put on a brave face. And about a 16 other cliches that are totally detrimental to one's mental health, imho.
Daddy held my face in his hands while talking and kissing. And he tentatively placed a soft pat on my cheek. A light one. And I said "We've talked about how that makes me feel." Which we had. Not in the sense that we wanted to try it. Just about how watching it or reading about it made us feel. And it made me feel good. I can't quite remember what his reaction to it was at the time.
He said he remembered. And I could feel that Roger was definitely enjoying it. He confirmed it verbally too. I added that he wasn't the only one who was getting hot and bothered. Cos my hooha was definitely interested in what was going on.
So another slap. Then a couple more in succession. Taps more than full on slaps. Rapid, shallow, unheavy taps on both sides of my face.
This went on for a little while before he began fucking and choking, and more tapping.
"I'm just worried about leaving a mark."
"Don't leave a mark."
That was all the conversation we had during the encounter.
At some point I felt like I had had enough. But again, stupid girl that I was, I didn't stop him. Perhaps because I wasn't sure WHY I wanted it to stop. And if I should challenge myself to push on and go further. Clearly erring on the side of caution is NOT one of the cliches I live by.
Obviously my processing speed was a little impaired because I had still not said anything when I realised Daddy wasn't going to cum. So I confirmed that with him and then said "Ok then stop I need you to cuddle me now."
Which he did. And then I started crying.
I didn't feel bad - it wasn't shame or fear.
I just felt like I'd had enough and I wanted it to stop. And when I didn't say stop and he went on for just that little bit more after, it made me feel like crying. I couldn't explain it last night when we talked about it on the way home. But having slept on it, perhaps it would be more accurate to say the feeling was one of "helplessness". Which could possibly be a mirroring of the growing sense of helplessness in my day-to-day life, ie. the parents living with me, the financial strain, loss of privacy and freedom etc.
But it wasn't a BAD cry. It felt like a relief. To let it out.
Many of you will understand how it feels to need to let it out but be unable to do so. So many times I've read about how a spanking pushed a person over the edge, broke all composure, till the tears poured out, and with them, the pressures of daily life.
This felt very much like that ONE time I cried after a spanking. And that was, unfortunately, never repeated. Not from lack of trying, but I'm just not wired that way, no matter how frazzled and in need of a cry I was.
Last night's face slapping event seemed to be much more efficient at bringing those tightly packed feelings up to the surface to manifest as tears.
And did I feel better? Yes.
Do I want him to do that again? Yes.
Did I feel humiliated? No.
On the contrary, I felt loved.
The one thing I had the strongest sense of during those few minutes was that he was doing with me as he pleased. Because he can. Because I want him to. Because pain is something I could offer him.
And that was the "turn me on" part. The feeling helpless part, well... I can't say it's a new feeling. I dare say there is some measure of helplessness in any scene for the sub in question. But perhaps I had gotten comfortable in my role, our roles, so much so that I've been "performing" well for Daddy, doing all the things he expects of his little girl, and haven't had too much opportunity to be "challenged" in the area of submission.
Well, now my head hurts. This involved way more thinking than I planned to do when I started the post. So go ahead, tell me what you think. Let me know of your own experiences with stagnation and overcoming plateaus, slapping, release, whatever, really.
I'd love to hear your views.
And just cos this is a totally fun video... here's a bunch of people slapping each other.
Hello from across the border :) Well, I'm back now, cos there was no internet for me across the border. BIKSS wanted to get the car polished and it's way cheaper there than where we live. So, ROAD TRIP! Albeit a mini one.
First, we had lunch. I HAD to share this:
Its spinach in a sesame seed dressing. Tasted better than it looked. And it reminded me of a decapitated Groot. I'm sorry. I like Groot too. But that's all I saw when I looked at it.
Also, we feasted on a boat of raw fish.
There was salmon, octopus, clams and white tuna on that "boat". Now, I never used to eat sashimi (except for salmon) cos I didn't dare before. So this is one of those things that I must say BIKSS is responsible for. We had gone to a Japanese restaurant one day (not too long ago, in fact) and he said let's have some sashimi. And I agreed cos I figured if I didn't like it he could just eat the whole lot. As it turns out, I DO like it. Some more than others. But I find myself being more adventurous when he's around. So hurray for new experiences with Daddy.
And here's saving the best for last. I like sashimi. I like chips. I like wasabi mayonnaise. Ta-da!
As far as my taste buds go, this is a pretty damned near-perfect combination!
After lunch we went to look for the car-polishing place and after sorting that out, we traipsed on foot in search of "a dingy hotel we can slip into". Those were my words. The night before. I think BIKSS is upset with me for having uttered them out loud and making it a reality.
It turns out he had seen a small hotel nearby but their online rates were WAY different from walk-in rates. And it wasn't really worth spending all that money on a couple hours' worth of cuddle time. So we looked across the road and decided to chance it at another hotel. "You did say 'dingy'" he reminded me.
I was a good sport tho. "Yup. Let's go there!"
After all, how bad could it be right?
HAHAHAHA. And now I know.
Still, lumpy bed and pillows notwithstanding, we found ourselves incorporating some kinky playtime ingredients which had been missing from sexy-time for a while now.
SPANKS! I GOT SPANKS! My butt was itching. It wasn't sure how to react to the force of the smacks. My skin was unused to the sensations. It was rather amusing.
Then Daddy grabbed my hair while I was sucking on Roger. And held my head down while he fucked my mouth. Again, it felt like a brand new sensation all over again. This hiatus from kinky sex is good for ONE thing - rediscovery.
My eyes teared, I choked and threw up a little in my throat, and according to BIKSS he felt me break out in a sweat.
Which brings me to something I think many people overlook - it's one thing to have a safeword but also super important is a Dom who is ALWAYS present and aware and alert to the things that are going on in his/her sub's body - breathing, facial expression, muscle tension etc.
And we are also happy to announce the return of THE WET SPOT!
OK so it gets a little bit gritty from this point on. Details (not of the sexy kind) might be a little bit TMI for some so consider yourself warned.
Sex had been so rare the last half a year (and I didn't want to mess up the new sofa bed on account it's well, a sofa, during the day and I didn't want spots on it!) and we haven't actually had the luxury of Daddy cumming inside me (which used to happen when I was on the pill, or when we could actually have sex when I was safe).
So this time round he DID. Cum inside me I mean. And that means that when we went at it again we made a wet spot! And I don't know if it happens to you guys too, but with us it has often been that when we go round 2 after he's cum inside during round 1, all that pumping generally means the area under me gets wet and mucky.
I don't think we've had a wet spot for half a year, maybe more. So I was happy for its return :)
I haven't been here in almost half a year. 5 months, actually. I miss writing. But more than that, I miss having my own space.
Things have been mad here. Everyone's trying to cope with the new reality. The father has more not-so-great days than good ones; the mother, I suspect, is acting up now that the live-in helper is here. I suppose it couldn't have been easy for her to adjust to living in a place that isn't hers and I think having to give up control to one's daughter (after having been the matriarch of her own "palace" all her life) is tough for one who is so set in her ways. I also still have a tenant so that was weird for her, having a stranger in the house... and now with the live-in help here, perhaps she feels as if there are just way too many non-family members in one space.
I know *I* do.
We need this here!!
This also means all of our interaction (BIKSS and me) is restricted to dinners out, walks along the beach, and the occasional (and by that I mean super-rare) romp in the hay. We have sex once a month. There are no motels, per se, in the city where I live (I KNOW RIGHT??? Where do they expect people to have sex???) so we've escaped across the border a couple of times. But that's not the easiest thing to manage what with having to take time off work and all.
Also, because I need the money, I've recently taken a half-day position in a clinic. It pays decent, but also means I have even LESS time to do anything for myself.
But today we bit the bullet and checked ourselves into a "transit room". Well, there's this chain of hotels and a number of branches can be found in the red light district. But because they rent by the hour (so to speak) the entire chain has earned the reputation of being just a little bit sleazy.
The one we went to was near the city centre. I was hoping it'd be a little less "dubious". The room leaves MUCH to be desired, but it's really affordable, easy to get to, and most importantly NOT in the red light district. And the desk clerk was all business.
We went thru' the side door from the parking garage (*phew*), and approached the counter.
"Do you have a transit room?"
"Yes, can I have your IDs?"
We hand them over, he tells us how much it is, and BIKSS hands him a fifty.
Along with our change (yes, there's change) we get a key hanging off a fob that has the room number in a white bold font.
So off we went.
Two hours of cuddling, sex, and re-acquainting myself with Roger.
Mmmmm...
After that we went to a nearby food court for dinner where our meal cost a third of what the room cost.
The hotel and dinner together were still cheaper than some meals we've had. And I'd rather do this than have expensive dinners. Well, ok, not ALL the time maybe... but at least now we have a viable option for regular cuddles *yay* *yay* *yay*!!
And that is the update. If all works out, and more fun times can be had, perhaps I shall have more kinky updates in the near future.
