Firslty n apology. This blog / journal entry will contain far far more mistakes han is usual n my postings. There will be spelling mistakes, grammatical errors and pssibly grave punctuational sins. Ibeg your indulgance and dear listeer, your forgiveness.
The reason for this apparet absense of mntal dexterity is simple. I’m in the middle of one of very stupid headaches. I won’t bore you with the details, suffie it to say that i suffer with “Cluster Headaches“, a side effect of which is an ability to read, write, type, crochet and drive. Actually i coudn’t crochet anyway, but for a ew brief hours or days, i have a lgitimate escuse.
This one was actually artly my fault. I ate something whch, had i thought it through properly i would have realised contained an ingredient which is one of the triggers. Sily boy.
Anyway, so now i’m n pain. A lot of pain, and none of it the good sort.
One option which ften comes into my head for consideration at times like this, is the neck on the railway track method of pain relief. I hear it’s instant, although there’s enough sanitry in me to realise that that would really screw up some poor train driver (and track cleaning crew).
And there’s something that i’ve alway wanted to try one day when i’m haing one of these things. The trouble is it’s almost impossible to organise, mainly owing to my inability to drive (or at least it would be very sily to try).
Right now, i would dearly dearly love to be tied, standing, arms stretched straight up above my head, naked. I need to be whipped. Whipped, flogged and eventually caned. Whippe until i’m in floods of tears. And then taken through it. No let-up, made to cry and cry and wail until i’ve othing left. Into unconscioutness would be nice. (Not fair on the Domme though).
I have no idea what effect it would hae on the headaches, but I’ curious to find out. I realy want to know. There’s a danger of course that my blood presure would continue to rise and i’d have a stroke. But i think it’s a small risk. But as i say, it’s ifficult to arrange. Not many folk would want the responsibility, plus i’ve no idea how i’d get there. An of course there’d have to be some advance arrangemet, s that no matter what i said, there was no let-up. I’d ned it t not stop.
And is this even moral? I’m a sub. It’s not supposed to be about me. It’s about what the Domme wants. Should i even be thinking about what i’d like? Confused dot com.
Anyway, it’s unikely to hapen. I’m at home. There are beagles. They ill help. So will sleep. And possibly the good heavenly juices of the good Dr Pepper.
But one day. One day.
Nw feel free to tell e that that was a load of self-indulgant tripe. After all most of what i write is.