Wounded in battle, but still winning the war of wit.
Sunday
Sunday is another largely unproductive day. I’ve been trying to do a few things, but anytime I come away from the heat, I’m quickly reminded of why I need it again. Usually when I’m not using my arm it doesn’t hurt much, but what was intense pain has now been replaced by a burning, prickly sensation, something called “neurapraxia”. Most usually I manage my symptoms with pain medications and heat, but right now, even my cotton bedsheets feel like sandpaper on my skin.
Master made the most wonderful pork belly slices for dinner, which after an hour in the oven, came out succulent and tasty. I was worried that they were going to come out tough and dry, but our head chef proved me wrong. Note to self: buy pork belly slices way more often!
Monday
Not too soon after posting last week’s Week In Review post, Mr Valkyries messaged me: he wants to talk through a few things from my post. Sir’s tone is lightly confrontational, though not overly aggressive. I listened to what he had to say and then I responded to him.
I won’t share everything here, but Sir has said he’s going to be more direct with Master Levi, he’s also going to drop his “switch” comments in future. Sir did also say that I didn’t use “pumpernickel” to the switch comment, to which I argued that I didn’t feel it was really a “pumpernickel” situation. Sir had mislabeled and frustrated me, but he hadn’t distressed or alarmed me. Hence, no “pumpernickel”.
There was some other information too, that again, I won’t repeat here, but that helped to clear up some misunderstandings. Sir said that he wants to do right by Master and me, I really believe him too.
So I think we both came away from that conversation with a sense of mission accomplished. Not having “won”, perhaps, but still having achieved something. This is what diplomacy is for.
I think having had more time to think about that conversation – and, like I say, more understanding – gives me hope that we can indeed find a way forward. Obviously nothing is certain yet and there are many variables that can ultimately affect and change whatever we may all ultimately decide, but understanding one another helps to shape decisions and helps to set the foundations for a much stronger connection for all of us, so I thank Mr Valkyries for that.
For his part, Sir did say that the ‘simpatico’ is cemented in us, and that gives me a lot of hope.
Monday daytime is another lazy day for me, though using voice to text and my new gooseneck phone holder really helped. I can lie in bed and write text for my blog posts now, reply to emails, messages and so on – all while recovering my arm!
I discussed domestic labour with Sir too, and he said that Master has it “light”. I had to chuckle: I don’t think Master realises just how lucky he is sometimes… Or maybe he does.
I did make a decision today: I quit Slowly. Nothing against the people I have met there and I have even dropped letters inviting them to stay in touch elsewhere. No, it’s a “time and typing” thing – I’m trying to break free of my desk.
Sir mentioned his endoscope again too, to which I pointed out that I noted you can’t buy medical grade endoscopes on Ebay. So sad, too bad, nevermind.
Sir said that all he needed was an endoscope and a bucket of hand sanitizer. I had a mind to argue that I was sure even farm animals get better treatment.
It’s not a “pumpernickel” situation though. Yet.
Mr C came down for some time, to talk about his missing parcels and then for a general chat. Even he seemed concerned, bless him – he gave me some physio exercises to do to try and help.
Mum got her surgery day today too, in two weeks time. She’s nervous about it, I think we all are.
Monday evening I managed a doozie: I called Master’s football boots his “football shoes”. The sadist is amused.
“Football shoes?” he teases, “so what do I wear to the office? Boots?”
“Please excuse me while I get my work stilettos on” he continues. I threw a pillow at him.
A little later we tried to exercise Huxley, for the first time in about two weeks. A few throws and my left arm is weak and painful again. It brings me to frustrated tears – I have things I need to do.
Still, Master and Mister are being supportive, encouraging and caring, and I can’t fault them for that. I normally resist being cared for, all too aware that for some, help can be transactional. But just maybe, this experience might have finally forced me to see the good in some people, and to finally accept help sometimes.
I did receive a kind offer of a loan of a phone tripod stand from V as well. I have one already, which begs the question, why didn’t I think of that?!
Monday evening comes with another spanking, for missing lunch again. I didn’t really miss lunch so much as I ate an unacceptable lunch, apparently.
A packet of BBQ Popchips and a coconut macaroon. I didn’t feel like much.
Still, Master has deemed it unacceptable, so it’s back over the sofa we go.
He makes me count them, just as these Domkind like to do. Three spanks aren’t much, but they still drive home their point.
Naturally, they ignite the connection between my ass cheeks and my groin.
“I should skip lunch more often” I mutter to myself.
“Sorry?”
“Nothing, personal musings” I smile. I try to stand, Master pushes me back down.
“Do share, I like to be amused too” he says. Master scratches his nails against my buttocks, it causes me to wince and mewl.
“Forgotten it, sorry” I say.
“Then allow me to refresh your memory” he says, and spanks me hard again.
Tuesday
In spite of our earlier plans, Mum doesn’t come up in the end – she’s caught my brother’s cold. So instead, it’s a day of housework for me.
I did, however, have a nice chat with Mum, about her surgery and her care needs after surgery. Mum told me that her surgeon anticipates she’ll be able to return to light chores after just two weeks, he also thinks she’ll be in and out of hospital within eight… hours.
The arm still isn’t perfect but it’s definitely better – I can use it for short periods now without too much pain. I managed a full shower and shave and I got the grocery shopping away too, albeit with the help of a grabber tool.
So there have been further developments in my relationship with Sir. First of all, I’m only going to refer to him as Mister – or Master, depending on how that conversation goes – Valkyries from now on. Sir knows about my decision, I also feel it better given Sir said he likes it more.
Secondly, I’m going to stop joking about Sir not being my boss. It was once a kind of sassy retort I made to Sir for telling me what to do, except when Sir returned it to me, I just felt chronically sad. I wanted him to be my boss (now not so) secretly, and the fact he’d reminded me of that which I’d used to sass him landed like salt in an open wound. I know Sir wouldn’t deliberately hurt me in a way he knew I wouldn’t enjoy or couldn’t handle, but still.
Sir did say he simply saw it as a part of my sass, and he warned me about what happens to sassy brats. By now I’m convinced that the sofa shall be as central in my submission to these men as what it is in my home.
Tuesday afternoon I find myself in a funny mood, or as Queen would sing, this crazy little thing called love. I’m pottering about in the kitchen, counting my blessings and thinking of both Master and Mister. It has me thinking of Christina Aguilera’s songs, “Loving Me 4 Me”. I find myself singing. Yes, singing.
Do note, I wouldn’t call myself a good singer, and that has largely to do with my family telling me that I couldn’t sing, yet my brother could. I didn’t agree, but whatever, I wasn’t going to try and steal his glory. So I stopped trying to sing. I mean, why keep trying to do the things you’re apparently bad at? I’m good at writing my words, not singing my words, so I’ll just stick with that.
I did surprise my Mum once by singing Shakira’s “Underneath Your Clothes” though. She was about to ask me to turn the volume down, so I think she had a bit of a shock when I told her I didn’t have the radio on.
So maybe I’m less “black sheep”, and more “dark horse”.
That’s another I found myself singing the other day, by the way, though in that moment, I was unsure who the dark horse really was.
So back to the kitchen: I asked our kitchen Google Nest to play the song, and as these devices do, it followed up with other songs that left me thinking and feeling. Christina “Infatuation”? Eh, some might say so. Britney Spears’ “Sometimes” and Jennifer Lopez’s “If You Had My Love”? Google understands. Britney’s “Slave 4 U”? I stopped that one. Not yet, Google. Not yet.
Tuesday afternoon I managed another calamity: joking as I do with Mister Valkyries, I mistyped 🥰 instead of 😠. Sir saw it and called me up on it.
No love for tradesmen then? 🥰
My heart is still, I lied.
Truthfully, I typically get along with tradespeople very well. If you like a conversation and a laugh, well… I’ve got a favourite gas engineer, and I’ve talked sex toys and Cards Against Humanity with an electrician who was up a ladder, fixing a light fixing for us throughout our conversation. I try to be around but not intrusive, and I try not to speak to them (distract them?) unless spoken to. But if spoken to and conversed with? Well, then good luck shutting me up!
I do apparently have a highly charming personality. Well fellas, I’d apologise 😉
Still, Valkyries and I were threatening to blow up one another’s beloved ships just the other week. No way I was going to make it that easy for him!
Maybe.
Tuesday afternoon I was invited on another secret mission. That’s really all I can say about it for now, though dedicated readers will know that the last time I went on a secret mission, this was the result. So you know, watch this space 😉
Tuesday evening was a quiet one for me, though I was under orders to order in for dinner, given Master would be out for his.
Truthfully I’d been invited to the same birthday dinner as Master, but I’m about done bothering with the “friends” who don’t bother with me on the mundane days in between. I’m not antisocial, I’m just shifting my priorities. I’m not trudging across town for someone’s birthday who didn’t even bother to call/text/wish me a happy birthday on Facebook for mine. Call me petty, I don’t care – I call it “conservative”.
Master, however, still wants to go. You know, just to be polite.
Let it be said that I also can’t stand said friend’s husband, let’s call him Brett. The last time I saw Brett was at another local Indian restaurant, for another birthday, and just as I told Mister Valkyries, “we ended up sharing a bowl of poppadoms with him and he was eating them like he was the only one paying for them”. I understand that Brett is apparently autistic, but autism is not an excuse for Brett’s disrespectful behaviour. Even if he is autistic, it’s not okay for nobody to correct him when he offends someone and it’s not okay for him to use his autism as an excuse to be rude. I am a firm believer that autism might explain a behaviour but it can never excuse it, and it’s much better that someone says something to him fairly and firmly than some half-brained idiot “teaches” him some manners with their fists.
He’s disparaging about my “friend”, his wife – let’s call her Jess – in public sometimes too, and that drives me nuts. Jess doesn’t seem happy, she also doesn’t seem to realise she has a choice.
So my arm injury kind of came in convenient last night: I was in too much pain and it would be kind of awkward to use a knife and fork in a sling. I couldn’t go! Too bad.
So instead, I was under orders to buy food in, and Master went with Lewis instead. I found a nice little local Indian restaurant that does a ‘meal for one’ for £20 ($26) consisting of a curry, rice or naan, starter (I opted for the vegetable samosas with a tamarind dipping sauce) and poppadom with pickles. It was delicious and bookmarked it as one to return to. Often.
Master, however, was less than impressed by Brett once again. Apparently Brett judged Master for having to leave early, because he had to be up early for work today.
“I was up by six, baking bread” Master mimics.
“Good for you!” he says dryly, “nobody gives a flying fuck.“
Also Tuesday evening, I ended up discussing some bugbears with Mister Valkyries. Sir has noted that I’m passionate about my work, and it really gets under my skin when I see people being dispassionate (or factually incorrect) about our lifestyle. There’s a softness in the moment; I’m learning that I can open up to him and trust him.
Wednesday
Annoyingly, I woke up five minutes past six this morning- twenty-five minutes before my alarm. I decided to get up anyway – there’s no way I’m going to get back to sleep in twenty-five minutes!
Tea and coffee made, I joined Master back in the bedroom, where Master is now waking from his own slumber. Coffee drunk and him dressed, he is soon out the door.
Somehow, Master managed to activate the security alarm on his way out the door, so I had to quickly tuck roll out of bed to turn it off – it’s nice of him to keep my training up to speed!
Mister Valkyries joined me eventually, at least in text, so we had a morning chat. Silliness prevails between Sir and I.
We had some banter about our forum ranks, and Sir tried to shut me down by playfully belittling me. It’s effective at first, and I scrambled to find my authority again. I’m an adult, damn it! Have you ever seen a full-grown adult throw a full-grown tantrum? Believe me, it’s not pretty.
So with damage limited, I opted to play instead on the Owner and pet roles: I told Mister Valkyries that I wasn’t keeping him, then I questioned who was “kept”, and who was keeping. Sir provided me with an itinerary of his morning, including that I was ‘keeping’ him from the news. To that I replied “exactly 🤭”
Good game, Sir 😉
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Until next time!
Stay safe & have fun,
The Thoughts & Musings Of Mrs Wolfie 
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