I think this “moment” started during the shower-dick-sucking that immediately followed the missed-texts-fiasco.

He started slapping my face.  Not lightly, and not super-duper hard either.  But with enough crack to hurt.

And I started laughing.  I couldn’t help it.  I was so HAPPY I was nearly delirious. I like being smacked across the face.  A lot.  A LOT A LOT.

Then we weren’t in the bathroom anymore. I don’t really remember how I got from the bathroom to right beside the bed.  (Probably magic.)

He kept pulling his cock out of my mouth (or sometimes leaving it in) and slapping me, harder and harder.   And I just laughed and laughed and laughed.  I was in heaven – what ELSE would I do?  Happiness like that just makes me GLEEFUL and glee makes me laugh!

I don’t think he quite got that, though, because the next time he said, “Is something FUNNY?” and smacked me hard enough that I felt it in my jaw for the next two days.

I laughed more.

I was too far off in la-la-happy-land to answer eloquently so I simply said, “If… If you keep this up… We won’t be able to go out in public!  And that’s… Funny!”

And truthfully, that was funny for me to think about, in a really happy way.  But it wasn’t the FULL reason I was laughing.

I was just… So damn… HAPPY to be hurt.

I was VERY much hoping I was going to go from laughing to crying from pain, with nothing in between, but it never made that transition.  I think partially because he was so thrown by how giddy I was.

I wonder if it’s a separation thing.  I don’t get hurt for SO long and then the most minor pain sends me to such a happy place that I’m reduced to fits of pleasure-giggles.

Does anyone else do this, or is it just me?

P.S. – To twisted… Since I can’t directly reply to comments, my email is chloe (at) thenaturalorders (dot) com.  Only, you know, without the (at) and (dot) and the spaces.  Email away!

I miss Antonio.  I miss the real-life him and I miss even being able to talk to him.  Why?  Well, because, in all of his Masterful glory:

• He dropped his phone until it was broken.  He said it was once, I’m thinking it was more like five or six times.  At least.
• He is in a hotel, for work, and is apparently without internet because I barely hear from him. (I don’t blame him for this one, I just SULK.)
• He seemingly is REFUSING to tell me he loves me in those brief moments he can contact me.  No idea why.  It’s odd.  Terrifying too, but I’m going with “odd” at the moment. (*sulk, sulk, hates life, sulk* Okay, fine, he’s not refusing.  He just hasn’t in an abnormal amount of time.  And I notice these things because I miss him so much when we’re out of regular contact.)
• He will be travelling a LONG distance for Thanksgiving and has decided that long-distance driving is NOT a good enough reason to need a cell phone! He’d have my head if I didn’t have one when I drove to work every day, but him driving a third of the way across the country?  Totally fine. So instead of replacing his before getting stranded in the middle of nowhere heading out to see his family for Thanksgiving, he’s going to wait until he gets home from the holiday.

Hmph.

Hmph, hmph, hmph.

This post has slightly less oomph because, as subtle helpfully pointed out, I have been slacking myself.  I didn’t post my VFFF yesterday.  Ack.  I’m doing it now!  Promise!  (Er, well, I will have already done it by the time this gets posted.)

It was just a hell of a day yesterday.  I worked the overnight shift the night before, so I got home yesterday morning, exhausted.  I found out (when I went in for that shift) that Kay’s wake was being held yesterday from 4pm-7pm.  I love having no warning for these things.

So at home Monday morning I tried to nap, failed, and opted instead to have a fight with my father.  What?  It seemed reasonable at the time…

I showered and did my hair and makeup and got dressed in death-clothes.  Then I left my house at 3:30 and met the rest of my staff around 4:10pm.  We got about ten people coordinated and headed over to the funeral home.  Where we stayed for the ENTIRE wake (something about us needing to take all the flowers… and a nursing home and…?  Fucked if I know.)

I was secretly horrified by about a dozen different things.  I will totally share a few!

ONE – I didn’t know ANY of Kay’s family.  ANY of them.  Why?  Because they never gave a rat’s ass about Kay.  She got meningitis when she was two years old, and a temperature of 105 degrees fried her brain.  She was born a totally normal child, and was a normal toddler.  Then, bam, she lost it all because of a bad fever.  Including her family.  They shipped her off as soon as possible, and not a single person visited her while I worked there.  She went home perhaps once a year.  That once a year was not going to be Thanksgiving, btw.  Kay was going to be spending it alone with us – her staff.

TWO – Despite not knowing them, when her family figured out who I was they insisted on saying how sorry they were that I had to find her “like that” and it must have been “hard.”  I pride myself on being able to talk to people of all ages in all situations, but REALLY.  I had no idea where to begin with that one.  Uh, yes, it was hard.  Thanks?  Are you fishing for details?  Do you blame me? Are you attempting to comfort me, oh-stranger-who-I-don’t-like-because-you-paid-no-attention-to-Kay?

THREE – Whoever prepared Kay for this open-casket service ought to be shot.  Her make-up wasn’t blended right at ALL.  And they glued her mouth shut in a DUMB way. (I guess they glue it, right?  I don’t know, I’m not an undertaker.)  Anyway, it was all flat and weird.  Weirder than normal for a corpse, I should say.  My boss got all wide-eyed after we viewed the body, leaned over to me and said in a whisper that was bordering on excited, “Did you read those children’s books I gave you?  Remember The Flat Man?  I just… I can’t stop thinking about The Flat Man!”  (Granted, this is the sort of thing that makes me LOVE my boss.  But still.  If she had made me burst out laughing at a wake, I would have hit her. Kay would have laughed, at least.)

FOUR - My assistant house manager (AHM) is… Well… SHE’S FUCKING INSANE.  She nearly got fired for gallivanting around town with her friends ALL the time ON the clock, IN the company car.  She was written up, put on probation for it – everything. You don’t DO that.  Can you guess who shows up at the funeral home?  Two of her friends, ones we KNOW she was hanging with.  I guess she invited a bunch of her friends to the wake.  You know, because… Uh. Well.  Hell, I can’t even INVENT a reason for that.  Speaking of things I can’t invent a reason for, one of the AHM’s friends rocked up in black stretch pants, a hot pink t-shirt, a black&white checkerboard scarf, and – I shit you not – grey leg warmers.  Why?  Fucking why not, I guess.  Jesus Christ, this bitch is getting fired.

ANYWAY… The long story of my day continues (and includes a few staff ditching the rest of us, my manager telling a Program Director who was getting in my face about unionization not to start with me because I would “destroy him with words”) but the end result? I left my house at 3:30pm and didn’t get home until 10:30pm.  It was a miserable day.

Food for yesterday (Day 2!) is up.  Just click VFFF tab at the top. (There is a link to yesterday’s food as well, because I am subtle is a genius! I tweaked her system a bit but I THINK I did it right…)  Sorry I was late!  And fair warning, I’m leaving for work in two hours and I’ll be at work for TWENTY hours, so… Yeah.  Food for today won’t be up until I get home tomorrow and get everything uploaded.