I popped my i-Pod bud out of my right ear on the train earlier. That had absolutely NOTHING to do with the view I was blessed with, inches to my left: A pair of lovely, tanned, long legs, a bright mini-dress halfway up her thighs. My my. I was listening to the Shins, declaring nothing would bother me this day. She was reading the Daily News and, Thank God, did not notice my sidelong glances.
We (Rad and I) ended the day yesterday with my punishment. He gave me fifteen with the cane. Not satisfied, he made me kneel, head down on the bed, and he gave me an additional six with the braided leather carpet beater. Was worse than the cane. I went to bed horny; we were too tired to do anything else.
We began the day to the classical music on the clock radio and the Fat Orange Cat scratching and banging on the bedroom door. We ignored both and made love ... rough, painful ... he did what he wanted to me and I took it, while he told me stories about the nasty things he will do to me later.
I was not thinking (and am trying not to think) about today's date. Nothing will go wrong today... Nothing will go wrong...
P.S. I think I've discovered one reason why I drank so much -- my rotten parents denied me high heels as a baby: