Wear

It’s so easy to fall into routines. Wake up. Go to work. Go home. Crash. Wake up again, go to work. 

This summer has by far gone faster than any before it, and it hardly feels like a summer at all to me. I’m used to summer being this endless rest; four months where I can recharge my battery. Instead, I work my ass off and barely make ends meet. I find myself worn out by my job, as much as I love the kids, and excited for the chance to go home in two weeks. 

Two weeks. And then I get a whole nine days in Jersey. The last time for god knows how long. Thanksgiving? Christmas? I hope before that. I don’t know the next time I can get time off from work though. That I could get a whole week off is..amazing. 

I’m doing what I have to do. This weekend that means babysitting instead of going to the Citadel and flying. I didn’t get a chance to buy advanced tickets to the party at Alchemy tomorrow..and so I won’t be going to that either. For the next three weeks I don’t get to play..for various reasons. I’m gone to SoCal next weekend for birthday shenanigans and then i’m home. I WILL be twitching by the time I come back, and will need some serious play time with someone willing to take a firm hand to me.. any takers? 

Speaking of firm hands… wear has also meant both knowledge and built up resistance. I don’t flinch at hard spankings anymore, although I do cry out. Kane very rarely out right hurts me (and never does he harm me), but his spankings have bruised me to high hell, and his slaps can sting. There was one night where he got me to subspace by spanking alone, and then we went and played at the Citadel after, with my ass still raw… Goddes above did that hurt… It was the closest I’ve ever gotten to yellowing with him. After that I can take more. I scream, I cry, but I do not squirm away. 

I’ve had other hands touch me as well.. and there are times when that itch appears. The reminder that I am indeed poly, and need to play with others. There are times when I miss Cal’s style of domination a lot. He is incredibly formal compared to Kane, with proper table service and positions. He taught me a little before the mentorship ended..not much, and Kane has no interest in such things. Cal can also be…colder, more removed. He and I have yet to play properly..and there are times when my mind goes to bad places. Breath play. The violet wand. Marks on my body for weeks. How far would he push? I don’t honestly know. 

It’s fun to poke each other though. The playful nature remains in our conversations. He poked me today after I hadn’t posted a blog entry in a while and he wanted to make sure I was still breathing. I didn’t realize until we started messaging back and forth just how much I had missed him, even though I know he is continually a message or a text away. Send up the Bat signal and he’s there, the protective man that brought me into this kinky world. 

There’s something about talking to Cal that resets me; gets me to breathe easier. Perhaps it’s because I know he won’t bullshit or placate me. He always tells me straight, even when he knows it will hurt. Perhaps it’s because I know if anyone seriously hurts me Cal is likely to magically appear and break his jaw… There’s also the factor that I still absolutely trust him, and still have quite a bit of loyalty towards him… Regardless, we made vague plans to see each other in the coming week. Something to break up the monotony of my summer, and an opportunity to retrieve the art supplies currently living in Cal’s storage shed. I need to start working again. 

Thanks to Kane I will have the opportunity. My 23rd birthday is in exactly ten days. It will be my first birthday away from both of my parents..and the first birthday in a long while where I will receive an actual gift from anyone (that’s not to say that my parents didn’t make a big deal of my birthday growing up. They did. But the gifts usually consisted of a family party and cake.). He’s giving me the opportunity to work again, in the form of a 24/7 studio pass to a clay studio.

I’ve missed the feel of wet clay between my fingers; the cathartic release that it gives me. I am very much determined to get into grad school yet again, and that means making new work. 

I am tired, but I am not uninspired. Being with Kane makes me extremely happy. There’s a security, a rightness, in curling up in his arms at the end of a night. He says I give so much to him in my submission… but in truth it is simply my nature with him. 

In my routine I’ve developed an incredibly comfortable rap pour with the man I love. With him I can be completely myself…and I admit, I push my limits with him in ways I wouldn’t with other Doms. I act, dare I say, bratty at times, pushing him to one day go through with his threat of tying me to his bed for an entire evening. I’m sure he will one day, and I will relish every moment of it. I tickle. I poke. I play with his beard. I giggle, shamelessly, and watch that wicked gleam appear in Kane’s eye that means my ass is about to turn bright red from a beating.. 

I can go without the play parties when I get that most evenings. He picks up the pieces when I fall apart. He listens, always, when I need to talk. He’s not just a Dom.. he’s my boyfriend as well. Having that relationship where we can just sit and talk for hours on top of having incredible sex.. He helps to ease the wear. To remind me that I’m still breathing. That it will still be okay. It’s so easy to get lost in the sanitary he offers. 

Which is why it’s good when Cal pokes me from time to time. Otherwise the relationship hibernation would get me. And then the wear. And then I would probably suffer burnout. 

No burnout for me. I refuse. 

A rest would be nice though… a couple days just curled up in Kane’s arms.. and then flogged, and then fucked… 

I promise, I will get better at updating and actually typing about topics I want to discuss, not just rambling about my personal ish.

Yours…tired.

-Rena 

 

 

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