We quarreled again. And again, and again. And then he gave me a present. It was a porn movie. It occurs to me now that perhaps most women would not go all melty upon being given a porn movie, especially as a making-up-after-fighting gift. But for me, it was PERFECT.
We'd shot some video one night that had been screwed up because I forgot to turn the microphone on. He took that footage and turned it into a hilarious silent movie, complete with old-timey film effects and music. When he showed it to me I laughed my ass off the whole way through. Which I think was all he really cared about, making me laugh, but the gift was so much more too. And the more I thought about it the more perfect it was.
There are so many layers to it. On the most obvious level it reminded me of everything good about our relationship. All the laughter and silliness we've shared, the oh-so-delicious sexy play times, the way we've worked as a team. It told me like nothing else could that he wants to be my slave, that he wants just as badly as I do to get back to our "normal" life of perversion and pornmaking.
On an even deeper level it spoke to my Mistressly pride, which has been rather bruised lately. I know how many hours he spent working on it, and knowing how much actual work he would put into this gesture tells me that I can still count on him, even when it takes real effort. Beyond that he had to learn a new skill (video editing) to do it. Which tells me he's still willing to push past his boundaries, get out of his comfort zone and learn new things for me. These things are vital for the health of our Mistress/slave dynamic. I love him...adore him...and would want to be his friend and lover whether he were my 'slave' or not. But if we are to call this slavery then it has to mean something. I have to feel that he IS going to do his best to obey me, to give me what I want, no matter what I ask for. This demonstration that he's willing to work hard & learn new skills is exactly the proof my wounded heart was longing for.
There are other facets to it as well. I'll be able to use the video as the required monthly update on my clips4sale sites, so it spares me the work and worry of coming up with something myself. In this regard it's a seriously useful gift. I'll have a happy glow all month thinking of how I don't have to do that work thanks to him. And I have loved seeing his delight in not only learning something new, but in feeling like he's good at it. These past months of near-unemployment, being utterly broke and feeling unable to even help with the DIY work, have taken a toll on my pet's self-esteem. It makes my heart sing to see him sparked with gleeful optimism for a change.
I could probably go on all day about how many ways this porn-present delights me. But I have to get back to work; the long haul of turning sandpit manor into a lovely little home(cage) for my pet is not finished and the deadline is looming. But I think we've turned a corner now and for the first time in weeks I am looking toward the end with a heart full of hope instead of despair.
Monday, May 7. 2012
Turning a Corner
Wednesday, April 11. 2012
Welcome to Sandpit Manor
My life's taken a radical turn lately, away from domming and mom-ing and into previously uncharted realms of home repair and d.i.y. work. A combination of factors (but mainly us being at the lower end of the 99%) have made it necessary for Tia to move. We've been renting a house together for the past three years, with him living in the main part while I use a converted garage & Florida room as my 'studio'. I'd been doing my pro dom sessions and crossdresser makeovers there, and we shoot our amateur femdom porn all over the house. The plan now is for him to move from this place into a smaller, more affordable one. It's guaranteed to be more affordable because the place he's moving into is a mobile home owned by my husband Izzy.
This seemed like a good idea at the time.
Calling this place a mobile home is really giving it pretensions of grandeur; a trailer is what it is and Izzy and I had affectionately dubbed it 'Sandpit Manor' when we lived there back in the days before children. The moniker became even more apt after we moved out and the place was occupied by my brother. My 20-something pothead slacker brother. And many of his {ahem} artistic friends.
They had some very interesting notions of decor. There were tiny shelves made of scrap lumber scattered randomly all over the place. Every available surface was covered with graffiti. And what repairs were made...well, let's just say duct tape figured heavily in my brother's toolbox. They left the place quite full of junk too: furniture, clothes, a closet full of hundreds of old laserdisks. Some of the more interesting items included 2 bongs, a sack of pipe pieces, a digital postal scale, a deck of naked lady playing cards, and a whole pack of cream cheese under a mattress.
That one really threw me a swerve. Given the lifestyle of the house's inhabitants finding food outside the kitchen was to be expected. And cream cheese in the bedroom? It is a standard breakfast condiment; perhaps someone enjoyed having breakfast in bed. It's also not so far from whipped cream or chocolate sauce; I could even imagine a substitution being made in a moment of intoxicated lust. But what on earth made it seem like a good idea to hide it under the mattress?
I've decided to leave the bowling balls whimsically perched in the trees outside. But between the damage done by its former inhabitants and the normal ravages of age the rest of sandpit manor requires some major repair work. So far we've gutted the bathroom, including tearing out the floor & rebuilding it from the joists up, ripped out several other walls and most of the ceiling, and repaired or replaced every single window crank & light fixture in the place. Well, I say 'we' but the fact is I'm doing 70% of the work myself. Izzy is unavailable to help most days and Tia? While not exactly hopeless in the d.i.y department, he started off not being entirely sure of the difference between a flat and phillips head screwdriver. There's been a real steep learning curve to deal with there.
On the one hand I have become a veritable d.i.y. goddess. I pwned those windows and after rebuilding that rotted floor I feel like there isn't much I couldn't accomplish with the right power tools. For the most part I enjoy this sort of work. And it's a HUGE relief to take a break from all the (draining for me) socializing that goes with my job(s) in the sex industry.
On the other hand, what seemed like a good idea at the time may turn out to be a disaster for my relationship with Tia.
In my fantasies he's prancing around in some super cute booty shorts, striped thigh-high socks and a pink tool belt, happily spackling and fetching things and admiring my prowess with power tools. And I stride around competently getting shit done while taking frequent breaks to sexually harass my underling. In reality things are dirty and sweaty and difficult, with more fumbling and cursing than cheerful competence on my part. The work is physically hard, it's tiring, and thanks to my stupid fibromyalgia it fucking hurts. A lot of the time I don't feel much like a goddess.
Tia's issues don't help. He feels inept and clumsy, and the sheer ickiness of the work offends his fastidiousness mightily. He's depressed about moving at all and the prospect of moving into a run-down trailer with all kinds of repair issues doesn't ameliorate that one bit. He's scared and unhappy and wants to avoid the place...and I'm angry and resentful that he doesn't appreciate it (and me) more...and he's angry that I don't appreciate him more...and the whole thing has turned into a vicious cycle of angst that bubbles up every few days into arguments that seem like they're inevitably going to tear us apart.
It's my birthday today. Because there's still a ton of work to do, and because I'm obsessive about it, and because we have to be so careful with our money I will be spending the day working at sandpit manor. For the moment things are peaceful, loving and happy between me and my pet. But there are weeks and weeks of work to be got through still and I'm scared. It all seems so silly when I write it out like this; why should our love not be able to withstand these petty insecurities? But when the temper takes over and the poisonous arrows of hurt accusation start to fly it's hard to see how any affection could survive.
I just pray that what seemed like a good idea at the time doesn't turn out to be my worst birthday ever.
This seemed like a good idea at the time.
Calling this place a mobile home is really giving it pretensions of grandeur; a trailer is what it is and Izzy and I had affectionately dubbed it 'Sandpit Manor' when we lived there back in the days before children. The moniker became even more apt after we moved out and the place was occupied by my brother. My 20-something pothead slacker brother. And many of his {ahem} artistic friends.
They had some very interesting notions of decor. There were tiny shelves made of scrap lumber scattered randomly all over the place. Every available surface was covered with graffiti. And what repairs were made...well, let's just say duct tape figured heavily in my brother's toolbox. They left the place quite full of junk too: furniture, clothes, a closet full of hundreds of old laserdisks. Some of the more interesting items included 2 bongs, a sack of pipe pieces, a digital postal scale, a deck of naked lady playing cards, and a whole pack of cream cheese under a mattress.
That one really threw me a swerve. Given the lifestyle of the house's inhabitants finding food outside the kitchen was to be expected. And cream cheese in the bedroom? It is a standard breakfast condiment; perhaps someone enjoyed having breakfast in bed. It's also not so far from whipped cream or chocolate sauce; I could even imagine a substitution being made in a moment of intoxicated lust. But what on earth made it seem like a good idea to hide it under the mattress?
I've decided to leave the bowling balls whimsically perched in the trees outside. But between the damage done by its former inhabitants and the normal ravages of age the rest of sandpit manor requires some major repair work. So far we've gutted the bathroom, including tearing out the floor & rebuilding it from the joists up, ripped out several other walls and most of the ceiling, and repaired or replaced every single window crank & light fixture in the place. Well, I say 'we' but the fact is I'm doing 70% of the work myself. Izzy is unavailable to help most days and Tia? While not exactly hopeless in the d.i.y department, he started off not being entirely sure of the difference between a flat and phillips head screwdriver. There's been a real steep learning curve to deal with there.On the one hand I have become a veritable d.i.y. goddess. I pwned those windows and after rebuilding that rotted floor I feel like there isn't much I couldn't accomplish with the right power tools. For the most part I enjoy this sort of work. And it's a HUGE relief to take a break from all the (draining for me) socializing that goes with my job(s) in the sex industry.
On the other hand, what seemed like a good idea at the time may turn out to be a disaster for my relationship with Tia.
In my fantasies he's prancing around in some super cute booty shorts, striped thigh-high socks and a pink tool belt, happily spackling and fetching things and admiring my prowess with power tools. And I stride around competently getting shit done while taking frequent breaks to sexually harass my underling. In reality things are dirty and sweaty and difficult, with more fumbling and cursing than cheerful competence on my part. The work is physically hard, it's tiring, and thanks to my stupid fibromyalgia it fucking hurts. A lot of the time I don't feel much like a goddess.
Tia's issues don't help. He feels inept and clumsy, and the sheer ickiness of the work offends his fastidiousness mightily. He's depressed about moving at all and the prospect of moving into a run-down trailer with all kinds of repair issues doesn't ameliorate that one bit. He's scared and unhappy and wants to avoid the place...and I'm angry and resentful that he doesn't appreciate it (and me) more...and he's angry that I don't appreciate him more...and the whole thing has turned into a vicious cycle of angst that bubbles up every few days into arguments that seem like they're inevitably going to tear us apart.
It's my birthday today. Because there's still a ton of work to do, and because I'm obsessive about it, and because we have to be so careful with our money I will be spending the day working at sandpit manor. For the moment things are peaceful, loving and happy between me and my pet. But there are weeks and weeks of work to be got through still and I'm scared. It all seems so silly when I write it out like this; why should our love not be able to withstand these petty insecurities? But when the temper takes over and the poisonous arrows of hurt accusation start to fly it's hard to see how any affection could survive.
I just pray that what seemed like a good idea at the time doesn't turn out to be my worst birthday ever.
Sunday, March 25. 2012
Maslow's Needs
Regular readers (is there such a thing on this blog?) may have noticed Mistress and I have been kind of quiet on the blog lately and on twitter too to some extent after the big birthday kinkfest that we had back in Feb.
Well, we're not dead, and the blog hasn't been abandoned by any means, we have just been busy spending far too much time in the vanilla world then either of us really care to.
We have both been obeying the law of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. That is, we have been more preoccupied with meeting our physiological and safety needs to indulge in our higher needs of hot kinky sex.
Not that I want to bore anyone with our problems, but the economy has huffed and puffed and finally blown our house of straw down. The company that I work for has cut me down to working 3, maybe 4 days a week if I'm lucky, and as such we cannot afford the studio any longer and I must move, and soon. Mistress has been working very hard at renovating the property I am to move into, and I am *so* proud of her at the work she's doing...and so thankful to her and her husband that it can and has brought me to tears more than once.
I am poor yes, but in terms of those who love me? I am rich beyond compare. Thank you Mistress. Thank you Sir.
So even though I haven't been working on the job much, all the 'free' time I have left has been spent in either helping in the renovations or just trying to get by--looking for extra work, selling things on Ebay, having near-weekly garage sales (all the while hoping that no one looks around my garage and goes, "Hey, wasn't this where Sissy's First Video was filmed?
) trying to divest myself of some possessions that wont fit in the new, smaller place and trying to pay bills. I'm not going to go on and on about it--I know I'm not alone going through a very rough patch right now, and there are plenty of people in worse circumstances than ours. I just felt an explanation of our silence was in order.
So things have been busy, and stressful, and kind of depressing. (and losing my beloved necklace--my daytime collar, didn't help
) All not exactly conductive to hot kinky fun times. I'm hoping that once the renovations are done and the move accomplished that Mistress and I can resume our 'normal' (if such a term can be applied to us) day-to-day life of a loving Femdom-sissy couple.
I'm sure there might be some interest and even serve some kind of purpose about talking frankly about the real life trials and tribulations of being in a Femdom 24/7 (or as best we can) relationship, particularly when real life issues put the stress and strain on the dynamics of the relationship. And Mistress might indeed, for therapeutic value if nothing else might choose to write about that sometime. It might be a good change of pace as opposed to the popular Femdom fantasy stereotype where we are both dressed and doing kinky nasty things to each other every hour of every day--as seems to be the case in nearly all Femdom fiction and in a few reality-challenged blogs. Talking about what couples do when the mojo runs low, and when one is so stressed, scared and depressed that it just seems to overwhelm and darken every waking moment.
You know, the Real World. As opposed to the Fictional Whips & Chains world.
But that is up to Mistress if she wishes to do something like that. I am not up to that task, other than this one blog entry.
I'm off to shower now and go do another day of work on my future home.
--tia
PS. This isn't a PBS Pledge break, don't get me wrong, but if anyone reading IS interested in our videos, or anything else we try to advertise, like Alt Com, well...it would help. Our self-confidence, if nothing else.
Well, we're not dead, and the blog hasn't been abandoned by any means, we have just been busy spending far too much time in the vanilla world then either of us really care to.
We have both been obeying the law of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. That is, we have been more preoccupied with meeting our physiological and safety needs to indulge in our higher needs of hot kinky sex.
Not that I want to bore anyone with our problems, but the economy has huffed and puffed and finally blown our house of straw down. The company that I work for has cut me down to working 3, maybe 4 days a week if I'm lucky, and as such we cannot afford the studio any longer and I must move, and soon. Mistress has been working very hard at renovating the property I am to move into, and I am *so* proud of her at the work she's doing...and so thankful to her and her husband that it can and has brought me to tears more than once.
I am poor yes, but in terms of those who love me? I am rich beyond compare. Thank you Mistress. Thank you Sir.
So even though I haven't been working on the job much, all the 'free' time I have left has been spent in either helping in the renovations or just trying to get by--looking for extra work, selling things on Ebay, having near-weekly garage sales (all the while hoping that no one looks around my garage and goes, "Hey, wasn't this where Sissy's First Video was filmed?
) trying to divest myself of some possessions that wont fit in the new, smaller place and trying to pay bills. I'm not going to go on and on about it--I know I'm not alone going through a very rough patch right now, and there are plenty of people in worse circumstances than ours. I just felt an explanation of our silence was in order. So things have been busy, and stressful, and kind of depressing. (and losing my beloved necklace--my daytime collar, didn't help
) All not exactly conductive to hot kinky fun times. I'm hoping that once the renovations are done and the move accomplished that Mistress and I can resume our 'normal' (if such a term can be applied to us) day-to-day life of a loving Femdom-sissy couple. I'm sure there might be some interest and even serve some kind of purpose about talking frankly about the real life trials and tribulations of being in a Femdom 24/7 (or as best we can) relationship, particularly when real life issues put the stress and strain on the dynamics of the relationship. And Mistress might indeed, for therapeutic value if nothing else might choose to write about that sometime. It might be a good change of pace as opposed to the popular Femdom fantasy stereotype where we are both dressed and doing kinky nasty things to each other every hour of every day--as seems to be the case in nearly all Femdom fiction and in a few reality-challenged blogs. Talking about what couples do when the mojo runs low, and when one is so stressed, scared and depressed that it just seems to overwhelm and darken every waking moment.
You know, the Real World. As opposed to the Fictional Whips & Chains world.
But that is up to Mistress if she wishes to do something like that. I am not up to that task, other than this one blog entry.
I'm off to shower now and go do another day of work on my future home.
--tia
PS. This isn't a PBS Pledge break, don't get me wrong, but if anyone reading IS interested in our videos, or anything else we try to advertise, like Alt Com, well...it would help. Our self-confidence, if nothing else.
Friday, March 9. 2012
Tia's necklace
Monday, February 27. 2012
Tweets from sub/domspace
Mistress and I, if you dont already know are on twitter (@LadyErisiana and @slavetia respectively). Mistress posts a lot more
than I do either kinky stuff, articles she finds interesting or just musings. I post mostly smart-ass stuff to make myself laugh. ;p
But sometimes she will tweet in the middle of sceneing and order me to do the same, kind of a geeky way to use technology in my humiliations.
These are a few of our tweets from our recent kinky kidnapping weekend!
@LadyErisiana 2 Feb
In other news it seems I am heading into one of my horny spells. Which bodes well for @slavetia's birthday weekend!
@slavetia 2 Feb
Happy birthday to me!
RT @LadyErisiana: I am heading into one of my horny spells. Which bodes well for @slavetia's birthday weekend!
@LadyErisiana 3 Feb
Trying to decide which dreadful things I'm gonna do to @slavetia tomorrow. So many possibilities! evilgrin
@LadyErisiana 3 Feb
As of today @slavetia has been my collared pet for three wonderful years. Here's to many, many more!
@slavetia 3 Feb
sniff I love you Mistress! @LadyErisiana: As of today @slavetia has been my collared pet for three wonderful years.
@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
The birthday plot has commenced! At 3am I snuck in and kidnapped @slavetia..he was bound & gagged & shoved in the back of a van..
@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
And driven out somewhere in bfe where I proceeded to fuck him silly! mwahahahaha
@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
I told that #sissy bitch I would fuck him all night long and I did. evilgrin
@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
And then I fed him donuts. ;D
@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
He's still tied up, lying on the floor next to me now; I've only just begun! #bdsm #romance #rapefantasyweekend
@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
When I put the doughtnut in @slavetia's mouth (he was still blindfolded at the time) he said I'd crossed the line into complete decadence.
@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
But I haven't brought out the beer & bbq yet! cackles
@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
The cackling's cause I plan to make him eat/drink that birthday beer & bbq from a doggie dish on the floor. evilgrin
@slavetia 4 Feb
Last night/today/tonight....Mistress has outdone herself....this kidnapping scene is so hot...powerful...beautiful....takes my breath away
@slavetia 5 Feb
Beer. BBQ. Donuts. Abduction in the middle of the night, driven to some strange house and used every possible way by Mistress for HOURS...
@slavetia 5 Feb
Best. Birthday. Ever.
than I do either kinky stuff, articles she finds interesting or just musings. I post mostly smart-ass stuff to make myself laugh. ;p
But sometimes she will tweet in the middle of sceneing and order me to do the same, kind of a geeky way to use technology in my humiliations.
These are a few of our tweets from our recent kinky kidnapping weekend!
@LadyErisiana 2 Feb
In other news it seems I am heading into one of my horny spells. Which bodes well for @slavetia's birthday weekend!
@slavetia 2 Feb
Happy birthday to me!
RT @LadyErisiana: I am heading into one of my horny spells. Which bodes well for @slavetia's birthday weekend!@LadyErisiana 3 Feb
Trying to decide which dreadful things I'm gonna do to @slavetia tomorrow. So many possibilities! evilgrin
@LadyErisiana 3 Feb
As of today @slavetia has been my collared pet for three wonderful years. Here's to many, many more!
@slavetia 3 Feb
sniff I love you Mistress! @LadyErisiana: As of today @slavetia has been my collared pet for three wonderful years.
@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
The birthday plot has commenced! At 3am I snuck in and kidnapped @slavetia..he was bound & gagged & shoved in the back of a van..
@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
And driven out somewhere in bfe where I proceeded to fuck him silly! mwahahahaha
@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
I told that #sissy bitch I would fuck him all night long and I did. evilgrin
@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
And then I fed him donuts. ;D
@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
He's still tied up, lying on the floor next to me now; I've only just begun! #bdsm #romance #rapefantasyweekend
@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
When I put the doughtnut in @slavetia's mouth (he was still blindfolded at the time) he said I'd crossed the line into complete decadence.
@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
But I haven't brought out the beer & bbq yet! cackles
@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
The cackling's cause I plan to make him eat/drink that birthday beer & bbq from a doggie dish on the floor. evilgrin
@slavetia 4 Feb
Last night/today/tonight....Mistress has outdone herself....this kidnapping scene is so hot...powerful...beautiful....takes my breath away
@slavetia 5 Feb
Beer. BBQ. Donuts. Abduction in the middle of the night, driven to some strange house and used every possible way by Mistress for HOURS...
@slavetia 5 Feb
Best. Birthday. Ever.
