I am a day late on my blog-writing schedule. (Tuesdays and Thursdays)
I am on the sofa; a decidely not-sexy corset tightened around my body. (Still got some curves accentuated by the corset, though. That’s nice.)
My back is borked, and I could not feel less provocative and/or seductive.
Sir has given me respite from maintenance until my body is better. And my body is not getting better as quickly as I want.
So I dream and imagine about naughty dress-up games, elaborate rope ties, maintenance, and other such deliciousness.
- Getting some wonderfully cheap, shredable clothing and having it cut and torn from my body.
- Hogtied with my new, leopard-print boots up near my ears. (That’s going to take some time and yoga.)
- A rope corset Sir has tied on me, worn to an event.
- Dreams about the new master bedroom and its large beam. Oh, the trouble that beam is going to see.
You see, there is fun to be had. And play triggers more creativity and…
I would prefer to not nurse a bad back.