As I sit on the sofa and read, I find myself idly stroking my left breast. Not to any purpose, but a reassuring thing. Neither Sir nor myself have been at the tops of our games recently. Between colds and bad backs and…
There is still an undercurrent of desire. But it seems to have gotten shy.
But I still love the small reminders of Sir’s domain. The protocol of the collar. Small acts of service. Asking permission to do certain things and use certain furniture. I like not having the control that I cede to Sir.
I think this is just new year, winter hibernation.