Penance vs Punishment

Last Saturday morning as we were on the way to Daddy’s office I was bombarded by phone calls and text messages from the mother re: issues with father at the bank. 

After all that got dealt with I harumphed to Daddy that the banks haven’t yet figured out how to cope with the peculiar problems our nation’s ageing population is sure to present. (All I wanted was for them to have some measure in place so that persons who have been medically declared to have limited mental capacity won’t be allowed to withdraw their life savings and lose it in 7 seconds...)

He sounded like he was disagreeing with me, and it was the day before my period so I was a hormonal mess. I defended myself and my stance and he kept poking holes in my ideas so much so that all I heard was “Don’t expect the world to change for you just cause your father’s got dementia.”

That’s NOT what he said of course. Nothing even remotely close. But that’s the message I got. It felt like he was expecting me to come up with a solution for everything - what if someone says it’s my money why can’t I have it? What about privacy - anyone who looks at that person’s account will be able to see he’s mentally unsound! What about this and what about that?!

I lost it. “That’s not my job, I don’t have the answers but that’s why I said the banks need to come up with SOMEthing - get a panel or committee or something to look into it right?”

Ok, so maybe I yelled. Maybe I hollered. Maybe I raised my voice a few (thousand) decibels. 

*Shrugs* but he should know better than to get into a thing with me first thing in the morning after I'd just dealt with the mother and BEFORE I got a chance to get some caffeine in me right? 

I'm NOT a morning person. I was pre-menstrual. AND pre-caffeinated. AND I hadn't had my morning ciggy (with the morning coffee). AND I had to deal with the frenzied mother. 

Still, I shouldn't have lost it. And if we had gotten into a fight I would have been better equipped to handle it. But NOOOOO. What did Daddy do? 

He turned to look at me as he was driving and then in the calmest voice ever said "I say this with the greatest of affection ok? But don't bite my head off." 

And then guilt. Fine. Great. Shit. 

I DID explain myself - I told him (ok, whined) that I was upset because it sounded like he was attacking me! I told him how I felt like he was accusing me of being unreasonable and wanting the rest of the world to accommodate my father's illness. Which is when he took a deep breath and said that wasn't it at all. That he was merely asking what ideas I had to counter all the possible scenarios the banks might face - he was playing devil's advocate, as it were. 

Of course the mood was kinda icky by then but that one line of his - oh the trouble it caused me. At that very moment it shut me up. And made me realise that I was out of line. But for the whole day after that, even after we had gotten some coffee into me and we had gone back to being normal, it nagged at me, at the back of my mind, in the pit of my chest. You know that feeling you get when you're feeling guilty or hurt and there's a physical ache in the middle of your chest? Surely I can't be the only one... 

Anyway on Sunday night (yes, it took me a whole 36 hours to verbalise it) I finally texted him that I was sorry. For being mean to him. He replied that I wasn't mean. For being nasty to him then. He said I wasn't nasty, I was just tired.  Well, for being tired to him then. 😕 

And then I asked him for a spanking. A proper one. He must have known what I was after cos he said "We'll use the paddle".

The thing I was after? Absolution. In order for that to happen I needed his help to carry out my penance. I say penance instead of punishment because the intention came from me, not BIKSS. 

Definition of penance :~ punishment inflicted on oneself as an outward expression of repentance for wrongdoing.

So after 6 years of saying we don't subscribe to the punishment theory, I realise that on some level I've always felt the need to repent and redeem myself through a spanking - what he always thought of as a 'reconnect' spanking was to me, at least, penance. An offering of submission. An act of contrition.  

He did use the Christmas paddle. And it hurt. And then we cuddled. And there was no more pain in the middle of my chest when I thought about what happened in the car that Saturday morning. 

Free for All

Anna May wrote about her recent date and how she wants to believe there are gentlemen out there. And Aurora wrote about her feelings of shame concerning sex, and both these posts made my brain tingle a little bit so that I just had to write something here about my own experiences. 

Fact - I grew up being taught that sex was bad, masturbation was bad, and all things to do with lust was bad.

I have always been rebellious, adventurous (as long as I had control), and wanting to stand out from the crowd. (Huge ego - what can I say.)

Fact - I have never felt good enough / pretty enough / smart enough / rich enough... blah blah, you name it I felt it. 

Therefore when I realised that I had something that other girls didn't (I'm one of those x-factor, flirty, sensual, dripping with innuendo types) which made the boys drool (not necessarily make them want to marry me, mind you) I took it and I milked it and I used it for all it was worth. 

Enter the confused Fondles. On the one hand sex = no-no. On the other hand, it was the ONE commodity I could use to advance my popularity / "worth".  (Ok, I'm referring to sexuality, not sex per se; I didn't go around sleeping with EVERYbody, despite what *they* tell you - altho I know at least 2 fellas who told others they'd slept with me like it was some sort of conquest!)

Ok, remember the not being good enough? Well, being the sexual person I could be meant that the guys would start hanging around, and the girls would start hanging around. There was a period of time when if you asked my friends to describe me in a word they would all say Bitch. The kind that would go out and be cold as ice and still have boys fawning at her feet. 

On the outside I looked and believed myself to be this modern confident tough cookie. But somewhere inside I was still guilty as hell about using something so "dirty" to validate myself. 

Sex has always been JUST sex. Physical. That's the default status. I was able to draw a line between the act and the emotion. Can I fuck without feeling? Yes. BUT can I also have meaningful sex with the man I love? Yes. Don't ask me how. It's a coping mechanism. 

A consequence of the time I was 12 and molested by a trusted family friend; of the time I was offered a ride home from a childhood friend who tried to rape me; of being "forced" into have sex by my first real boyfriend who promised he wouldn't fuck me till I was ready but did so anyway while we were petting and fooling around. 

I've written this down before, I'm sure, somewhere else on this blog. So I'm sorry if I seem repetitive. My point? Um, I can't remember. But rambling on I will say this - if people start treating you as a "sex-object" often enough, it's hard to fight back. I exploited my sexuality. Used it to get what I wanted. 

And then I met this guy. Before BIKSS and I got together. (I don't know if I've written about him before.) 

Date 1 - he tried to get some hands-on action. I said no. He said sorry. 

Then he asked for date 2 - promised he'd be good, nothing like that going to happen again, yada yada, felt a connection and all that jazz. 

Like Anna May I wanted to believe that he could be a gentleman. That he was sincere. 

Date 2 - he showed up early at my place with dinner. So we ate in. And then he forced himself on me. Martial arts practitioner. Big fella. The joke's on me tho cos I actually thought those traits would be useful if he needed to protect me. Well, the way I saw it, I had two options. Fuck him and tell him to get lost after. Or struggle and risk hurting myself fighting him off. I flicked my "desensitise" switch to "on" and said Fine. Let's fuck. If that's what you want. And then after that you can leave. And I never want to see you again. And even after that speech he was keen on carrying on. Sheesh. What a monster. 

And that left me asking the same question I saw Anna May pose on her post - Am I free for all? Is that all I am? Just because I'm sensual and flirty does that make it automatically ok for guys to expect me to put out? 

I suspect the other reason I could block off my emotions when I was having sex is cos of the guilt. Like Aurora I grew up in a church environment and under NO circumstance were we to enjoy sex, not even with your husband, it was only for the sake of procreation, it was a duty to the marriage, it was our duty to the church, blah blah. It was like brushing your teeth. Something you had to do. Not enjoy. Not indulge in. And no brushing other people's teeth neither. Ok that was a bad analogy. But you get what I mean. 

Where does that leave me then? To be honest, BIKSS and I started out purely physical too. That was my agenda. I knew he liked me, I wanted to have regular sex with someone whom I wouldn't fall for who wouldn't fuck me and leave, I didn't want to engage in sex with strange men anymore. I wanted a regular fuck-buddy whom I didn't have to think too much about in the "trust" department. He was "safe". 

And then he cuddled me, we fell in love, (ok, *I* did... he says he'd already had feelings for me for a while but never admitted it to himself!) and he turned my life inside out and messed with my brain and my emotions, and then I discovered Blogland. And now here I am, with all you lot having to suffer my insanity.

So right now I'm learning to accept that none of it was my fault. I didn't ASK for any of those bad experiences. The guilt is on THEM. 

I'm learning that sex isn't bad. See, I've made a choice that I'm going to enjoy the sexual side of life. And since I've made that choice, then it's up to me to NOT be a hostage to all those years of conditioning. 

I'm learning to be more discerning. Just cos I flirt with someone doesn't mean they're allowed to take advantage of my body. They can jolly well flirt back without being lewd and bawdy and vulgar. And if they can't do that, well, then clearly they are NO match for my superior flirting skills. Pfft. Flirting is an art I tell you -as I'm sure every flirt reading this right now will agree. 

I'm learning to enjoy sex WITH emotion. I'm learning to trust that BIKSS doesn't judge me. I'm learning to believe that I *am* good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, worthy enough. And anyone who doesn't think so can go rot at the bottom of a lake. 

So thank you Aurora and Anna May for writing your posts which nagged at the corners of my soul and inspired me to write mine. 

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And on the topic of reading other people's posts, have you taken a look at the CWS blog recently? I've convinced Spanky to leave it up by committing to a Fondles' Friday weekly insert. If you haven't seen my latest post, GO TAKE A LOOK. I'm trying to keep all content over there original so my readers here won't go there only to see a repeat telecast of what I've already written... and then stop visiting there altogether.

So if you want more of me, or the stuff I babble on about, make the CWS blog a part of your regular read too! Let's get lively, people, and bring the CWS blog back to life. (Was that a shameless plug or was that a shameless plug??)

Friday Night Kissing

Because it's been a while since I had the night off on a Friday, BIKSS suggested we go out for dinner. Which we did. 

But before that he popped in to use the bathroom. When he came out he gave me an amused (?) look while he asked "How was the cigarette?"

EEEEK! Caught! SHIT! 

*guilty*

See, when we talked about this before it was settled that when I went out with certain persons it would be ok for me to sneak a few sticks. He just doesn't want me to be a card-carrying, or should I say, pack-carrying, smoker. Well, on Thursday night I had a drink session with some friends from work, and my best friend came to join us, and she's one of the certain persons I'm allowed to smoke with. Thing is, by the end of the night there were 2 sticks left in her pack, and she had already bought a spare, so she chucked the almost-empty one to me. Which meant that I had the luxury of having a ciggy the next morning with my coffee (and while I pooped...) and of course I didn't see the need to tell BIKSS. Ahem. I admit there was some planned deception on my part, which probably explains why I felt SO guilty later on. 

But anyway, I didn't go around checking that I didn't leave evidence or anything. It was a case of having just chucked the butt in the loo after I was done - apparently it didn't get flushed.

Enter the boyfriend. Who needed to pee. And they pee standing up and LOOKING INTO the bowl right? 

*Groan*

And then the question, and so I told him. But I felt so, so, so bad about it, that I kept apologising and wanting him to know how I came to have cigarettes with me at home... and he wasn't angry or disappointed or anything, he was just "amused" - his word. He says I have permission to smoke and he didn't say I wasn't to smoke at home or anything... if you ask me, he was just making excuses for me so I wouldn't feel lousy. 

*Thank you Daddy BIKSS* 

I'm just glad it didn't hurt our evening. We headed out to eat, his treat, and then we got some groceries. But this time he didn't get in the queue before I was ready to checkout! LOL

The rest of the night was magical! 

While I was waiting for him to get out of the shower he said I should go get naked and on the bed. He didn't say specifically to do so, but I got into presentation position for him. I figured I should try and be as pleasing as possible! He approved by giving me some swats from my belt. And then some hand spanks. OUCH! I think that hurt MORE than the belt!

Of course that got us all worked up and he entered me from behind, his thrusts punctuated by my grunts and moans, and his asking if I missed him pumping my pussy and other such lust-inducing, heat-generating questions!

We lay about after, and in round 2 I found the remote control for Roger! - It's his left nipple. I flicked over it with my tongue, and sucked on it... which made him want some attention from my mouth. Which made BIKSS kneel over my face. Which left his hands free to attack my clit. Which made me instinctively pull my legs together when it got too much. Which made BIKSS unhappy so he forced them open and smacked my inner thighs. Which got me totally horny. Which then led to more hot sex!

... And by the time we got to round 3 we were ready to slow things down enough to spend LOTS of time kissing and stroking and fondling each other! It went on for a good long time too, and I climbed on top of him to attack his earlobes. Which meant I was straddling his hips and in perfect position for him to enter me - which he did. He pumped into me this way a little while but it's not a very good position for us cos I don't have leverage to move much anywhere since he's a little wider and thicker than my not-so-lengthy legs can accommodate. So he flopped me onto my back and we kissed and groped some more while Roger found his way back into my pussy! And we continued with lips locked until he came. And I DO mean lips locked. Towards the end there I don't think what we did constitutes kissing per se. Our lips were just kinda holding on to each other! It was HOT!

He mentioned that earlier in the evening he was just thinking about how it's been a while since we kissed like that... and I had the same thought after round 1, so I suppose we have the same threshold for how long we can go without a serious snogfest - that's a comforting thought! Perhaps now it's time to work on aligning our threshold for how long with can go without a spanking!

and a shout-out to my FB addiction!

Friday in Brief

I look at my Blogroll and I'm stressing. There are SO many new posts to read. Everyone's talking about time with their significant others, how they spent Christmas, stuff to look forward to in the new year... 

I was going to write a rambling post but perhaps I'll keep it short. Not so much for your benefit, readers, but so I can wrap this up soonish and head over to your blogs and catch up. (Altho I doubt I'll be able to get thru many before my dinner appointment!)

So these are the highlights. 

Yesterday was a D minus. For a couple who communicate so regularly bby text / IM / whatsapp, it amazed me that we could get into so many "tiffs" (he calls them episodes) in one day. First it was why didn't you tell me, then I might have snapped at him and said he was blaming it on my dinner party, then later on I thought he was just being evasive by not giving me a fixed time, and he thought I was just being difficult and pushy. Yeah, all in all I counted three different snappy conversations. It didn't end well. 

Today we had a chance to put that behind us. Well, to put that on my behind, anyway. As usual I apologised. I just felt like I needed him to hear me and he wasn't. He maintains I didn't let him say what he needed to say before I cut him off. In the end, perhaps I was fighting him because he's been away from me and D/s for an extended period of time, and I'm convinced when he's with his people he slips back into his old self - the old him around his family and friends. And when I don't hear / feel the strong confident Dominant him my strong independent self stands up and makes the decisions and barks the orders. It's a subconscious thing. Not something I'm aware of. This only occurred to me today as we were discussing yesterday's disaster. 

Anyway, it was all done and cleared up. And after that I needed him to spank me. To assuage my guilt. And bad feelings. Only -- I couldn't say it out loud! Me! Me who tells EVERYONE in blogland that I just ask him for a spanking whenever I need one. Sigh. I made him guess. I had 4 words in my head, I said, and he played along. He got it eventually. I smiled and was so relieved that I wouldn't have to verbalise it. 

"Well, what are you waiting for then? On your tummy."

So something like 300 swats with his hands and the Christmas paddle later, I was lying in his arms, his cum inside me, my face in his chest. 

And all was right with the world again.

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Today was also the first time my breasts bore the brunt of a brutal beating. How's that for alliteration??

It wasn't the intention to mark me, but I'm sitting here and noticing some tiny bruises on the inside of my right boob. His spatula was trying to prove its worth as the Christmas paddle seems to be BIKSS' new favourite these days. He slapped my breasts all over, under, over, at the side, he put my vibe between my legs and told me to close them, and hold it there, while he smacked me all over with his spatula. He put his cock into my mouth and had me suck him off while he did all this. 

I was writhing. And making terribly unlady-like sounds. I asked him for permission to cum and he said yes. I reached down with my hands and took the vibe, placed it in just the right spot, and concentrated on cumming. Only it is kinda hard when you're being beaten repeatedly in the same place at rapid fire speed - and when that same place is sometimes your sensitive inner thigh, sometimes the bottom of an already sore breast; his fingers found my nipples and he twisted them, pinched them, his other hand still wielding the spatula and slapping them all over as he did, and eventually I came. With his cock in my mouth. 

I let go of my vibe and moved my hand around his shaft and soon he came in my mouth. I was spent. But it was good. 

Oh and I was in pain - the residual kind - the good kind.

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After that he wanted to spank me some more with the Christmas paddle - told you it was his new favourite. 

He does this thing where the full length of it lands on both my butt cheeks, right down low just on the outside of my pussy. It does wonderful tingly things to my girly-bits and of course I get wet. 

Roger by now has decided that there is no reason why he shouldn't admit to enjoying it when BIKSS gives me a spanking, so after some discussion between the two of them (BIKSS and Roger, that is) they decide not to waste the opportunity of a dripping wet pussy and have another go. 

Perhaps the reason I was so easily aroused is that BIKSS said to me "Get on your hands and knees so I can spank you. That's right - no,up here, ass over there, good." The whole talking me through a position thing, telling me I'm going to spanked, that's like an instant turn on switch. 

At first he stood in front of me and reached over my back with the paddle to swat my ass. Then he stuck the vibrator in me but as I clenched and squeezed from pleasure, it fell out. He went round behind me now, to continue, and that's when they decided after a few more spanks to just mount me and not let good wood and a dripping cunt go to waste. 

What can I say. Today was a day of thrusting and spanking at the same time. It was so hot my brain just shut down. And so was he. He was being totally Dominant again today. Reclaiming my submission. As I was readying to leave the room and get us some lunch, he said "Before you go, come over here."

I hopped back into bed and went over to where he was lying on his back. 

"Give me your breasts"

I positioned myself over him and he started sucking on them. First one, then the other. And by this time I had sat back on my calves and placed my arms at my side, giving him full access once again to my tits. He enjoyed watching me make those I'm-so-horny-please-fuck-me-now noises as he played with my nipples. 

After some minutes had passed I called him an Evil man for making my pussy hungry again. He asked me what it was hungry for. Attention, I said. He reached down to finger my clit, my pussy, and asked me if that was the kind of attention it desired. Or does it want a cock? Hmm? 

Oh yes! I definitely wanted cock! I wanted him to pump into me, to ram his cock against the inside of my cunt. He got up and pushed me onto my back and climbed over me, thrusting himself into me quickly, and continued to pump immediately as soon as he had penetrated me. 

There was no cumming this round, but after I had had my fill he withdrew, laid back and declared "You may go now, before Roger changes his mind."

And after that, I got us lunch :)

last night's left overs for lunch today

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The last game his team played they scored 4-0 in a win. We had a carry over double stakes from the previous game. at a dozen strokes per goal that now comes up to 96 strokes. The plan was to get the cane out today and do that. And for every stroke I'd give him a kiss - so that's 96 kisses all over his body. 

Now I've done the 96 kisses this afternoon. I wonder if he'll still be game to do the 96 strokes later on? *My fingers are crossed.*

Overachiever (III)

Click here for Part One 

Click here for Part Two

or just read this as a stand-alone emo piece... it's up to you, really.

-Part Three-

(in which Fondles is emo not once, not twice, but three times - you see what BIKSS has to deal with? I feel sorry for the guy, really, I do)

I'd been feeling miserable over the last 24 hours before meeting BIKSS, mostly cos dad and mum have been here and oh, let's just say I'm not as nice as I should be to my father. 

This man who was clever and strong and had the answers to everything, who told me I could do anything and I shouldn't let people take advantage of me, this man is not who that man was. 

I'm not going to list his crimes. For they are not of his choosing. He is just being the way he is now and I was having trouble accepting this new reality. I was still holding him to the same standards he's always held us to. Logic and reason are no longer the mainstays of his consciousness, tho. And I need to remember this now. 

And because I am woman (hear me roar, no.. really, you know the song right?) and tend to collapse all my problems one on top of the other, when we were cuddling and BIKSS was half asleep (yes, I know, timing is everything!) I suddenly felt very vulnerable and just needed him to know how I felt about him. 

So you know, I said "Love me?" (yes, cos that's how I say I love you when I'm emo, it seems.)

His reply is "Uh-huh."

"You don't do intimacy very well, huh?"

"Uh-huh."

"Is there a way you would show me you love me so that I'll know that's the equivalent of your saying so? Cos I know you're not about the words..."

"Spanking."

"What???" 

"It's ALLLLLL love!"

This conversation is officially dead. And he kisses and gropes and cuddles me, only there's something festering inside me now. 

And because I am me, I won't let it rest.

So I tell him. Because I'm good at holding on like a pit bull terrier and not letting go until I'm satisfied. Which I was SO not at this point. And we finally get to the bottom of it. I wail, I whine, I weep. And he finally wakes up. Properly. He's actually sitting up with his eyes open now. I needed to know. I can't be brushed off. I won't accept a flippant answer. 

And just as he solves one problem, he creates another. 

"I'm sorry, I know that you're not the sort of person that can I can just brush off and not give a proper answer to. You're different, you don't think like most other people."

I don't know about you - but I heard that as a failing right there. I'm strange, I'm different, I need special handling and jeepers, that made me cry. 

... until he sorted me out by explaining that it wasn't a bad thing. It's the way I am and it's the me he's known for the last 24 years, and he's still around isn't he? So he pep-talked me for another half an hour and eventually I felt better. 

"I'm a bundle of trouble aren't I?"

"No, but you ARE a bundle of nerves. A lot of things on your plate huh?" 

"Yeah. Can I just throw it out and get a new one?"

So that's when we move into dealing-with-the-parents territory. 

G U I L T is a bad word. But that's how I'm feeling. That's the ONE constant feeling that I am aware of - it is all pervasive. It tempers every other feeling that tries to bubble to the surface. Guilt. Yuck.

But he lectures and shares and coaxes and soothes and comforts and convinces and eventually I think I understand where I need to go with this, what I need to do, how I need to think. Sigh. A serious mind shift is in order, me thinks.

So yes. Three episodes in the course of one night. I did say I was an overachiever... and actually, so is BIKSS.

Guilt

Christina at Red Booty Woman wrote about feeling guilty for leaving her parents in the hospice, for going on a no-family vacation, just to get some time to herself to relax and renew. 

The thing is, we ALL have guilt, and as Fiona has said to me before regarding a sticky situation with my parents, it's my Catholic Guilt making me feel lousy. 

All I know is that I'm thankful I have someone who'll alleviate all this self-imposed guilt when it becomes too much for me to bear. This is today's story:-

In the spirit of the season, I offered to have this year's end of year-cum-Christmas party for my usual gang from work at my place. I say usual gang cos there are many teachers who float in and out of my centre depending on what day it is. I myself only teach there 3 days a week. So I am only familiar with those people who are there on the same days I am. 

It was supposed to be 4 guests and myself, making a total of 5. When invited  my branch manager she was so excited she invited another teacher on my behalf... well, ok, 6. I can do 6. This teacher doesn't feel like she wants to exclude her husband from the festivities, so she asked if he could come. Manager answers on my behalf - "sure!" she claps her hands in glee. In my head I'm pulling out the extra chairs from the rooms to make enough seating for all of us now. 

Groan. One of the other guests who was previously quite happy to come solo now asks if her boyfriend can come with, since XX is bringing her husband. Well, I couldn't say no... so er, yeah, I said ok. Fine. 8. That's it. No more please!

Now one teacher comes hoppety hopping along back from the ladies' room and asked what we're all so happy about. Girl who now has the green light to bring boyfriend said to her, "Hey you said you couldn't come cos your mum will be in town and you didn't want her to feel excluded, why don't you come and bring her along, after all XX is bringing her husband and I'm bringing my boyfriend!" 

She grinned, came up to me and gave me a hug and said, "That's so nice of you! I'll bring dessert." 

Then someone else said they'd bring drinks (of the soda variety, not the alcoholic kind!) and another one said they'd bring snacks. 

Um hello - I'm buying the roast chicken. And XX offered a potato salad. But surely we can't all be having just that for food? Then it's one excuse after another why each of them couldn't contribute real food. THey were coming from church, there was not where to buy take-out along the way, they didn't have a proper kitchen to cook in cos they're renting a place currently (foreigners) etc etc. 

I told BIKSS I felt like cancelling cos I was pissed at how it spiraled out of control. Not to mention I can't accommodate that many ("Oh, don't worry, we'll manage - we can squeeze") and we probably won't have enough food ("It's ok, you can make awesome pasta right? and we don't need a lot of food, we're small eaters") AND I don't even know 3 of the people who'll be there in my HOME and I don't even LIKE at least 2 of those who are coming. (One of them got invited out of courtesy cos she happens to work there - but heck, it was just ONE so I thought I shouldn't leave her out.)

BIKSS said just act happy for a week, then tell them I've got relatives coming in from out of town and I'm sorry but I have to cancel cos I have to entertain them and attend some huge big extended family Christmas dinner. Which isn't altogether a lie... my German relatives will be flying in on the 27th!

When I asked him if I was being a horrid person for doing this, his reply was "If the fun has been taken out of the event by inconsiderate folks, what's it worth?"

And just like that I have a smile on my face again. 

Now what do I do with that roast chicken and meatloaf that I've ordered (and paid for) from the deli?