http://underhishand.com/hes-making-a-list

http://underhishand.com/?p=4537

http://underhishand.com/tips-from-the-kaya-files

http://underhishand.com/?p=4535

~~*~~

Tip #759

Bonking Master on top of the head with the empty wrapping paper tube is not “cute”.

He bonks back a lot harder. With a plastic coat hanger.

Hurrumph.

~~*~~

Tip #760

When sitting in a chair in front of Masterly horndog-types, do not indulge yourself in a mouth-stretching yawn.

He’ll just mount your face.

~~*~~

Thank you for reading the Kaya Files.

http://underhishand.com/holi-stress

http://underhishand.com/?p=4530

Christmas is stressing me out.

I’m sure it’s more pms than JUST Christmas, but either way I’m sinking fast.

Yesterday was a terrifically awful day.

B-man had a doctor appt. in the morning (and prior to heading to that, I’d spent about two HOURS typing up recipes for my mom because she’s putting together some sort of cookbook (which is great. I love me some family recipe cookbooks, srsly). But two hours of typing recipes sucks ass.)

Anyway.

So, I had nothing done when I had to go to doc. No chores done, no dishes done, no bed made, no nuttin. I was dressed. The End.

We go to the doc. I’m a good 30 miles from town so I try and combine errands to cut down on gas use. B-man hates shopping with a passion that only an emo 14 year old boy can muster. As soon as I tell him I’m running errands after his appt., he becomes his usual sullen and joyfully-bitching self.

Sets my teeth on edge, it does. I told him that everyday is not B-man Day. He told me, with perfect Eeyore imitation, that no day is ever his day.

*eyeroll*

But I ignore him. Tell him he can stay in the car and sulk if he wants to, I don’t care.

I head for the store. Jes calls me. She wants to meet me in town. It’s her birthday and she wanted to shop for her present.

(She’s 18, btw. And she’s still alive. Parenting WIN!! Yay!)

So B-man’s bitching steps up a notch. “Why do we have to wait, why can’t you take me home first, why does SHE have to come, why why why, waah waah waah”.

I offered him a Midol.

He told me I wasn’t funny.

Then he elected to sit in the car. In the winter.

*shrug*

Whatevs dude.

Jes, myself and Babygirl go in the store.

It’s fucking PACKED. Of course.

Trying to get through the crowds and down the aisles with Babygirl’s stroller was a pain in the ASS. Plus she’s hot and hungry and uncomfortable. In other words, she cranked the whole time.

Jes couldn’t find anything she wanted at the first store, though we must have looked at every single item in the store. Then B-man starts sending texts. “Hurry up, I’m cold, I’m hungry, wtf are you guys doing, I’m freezing”.

Waah. Shoulda not stayed in the car then.

Anyway. Two stores and a mall later, Jes still can’t find what she’s looking for, Babygirl has given up and fallen into a shopping-overloaded sleeping stupor, which, yay for no crying but jesus does she weigh a ton. B-man finally got cold enough to come inside and his constant heavy sighs of disgust only add to the pleasantness of too many people, too much noise and the clock ticking away to how many hours late I am getting home to get chores done and I have to pick Am up from school…

Argh!

Holi-stress. I had some.

We finally go home. I rushed through some basic chores (good thing Master was doing something after work and not coming straight home!), made supper- and then the kids got into a huge stupid argument and I decided to leave and go shopping.

By myself.

Where it would be quiet and peaceful. No 30lb car seat to lug around, no crabby baby, no crabby teenagers, no cart to try and maneuver down crowded aisles. No nothing.

Just me. And silence. And 500 other late shoppers, but still.

I go to the mall. I go in a store. I gather several items and stand in the hour-long check out line. Cashier rings me up.

I have no wallet in my purse.

*headdesk*

I remember Jes asking me for stamps and me telling her they were in my wallet. I remember her handing me my wallet and me putting it on the kitchen table.

So I went out to my car and sniffled like a baby. Then I called mah Man and whined. Then he came and rescued me and wiped the tears off my face and took me shopping and offered ME a Midol and told me he loved me.

Then we came home and I gave him a backrub. I would have given him a blowjob but he was falling asleep.

Then I started my period.

I can feel my mood lightening with each bloody drip.

Hee. I live just to squick y’all out.

In summary, I have lots to do and it seems like the days are shorter. I dunno how that happens, but it does. Karma’s a fucking comedian. So, entries may be sparse. Not even Fetlife is getting my attention these days. (Yet it still continues on in my absence. The nerve! Doesn’t everyone know that I am the center of the UNIVERSE!!!??)

*ahem*

I’ll be back. After the Midol.

~cunt

ps. I’m gonna open up a flickr, but pure vanilla and completely locked. You ain’t getting in unless I know you. If you want to see copious amounts of “LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL BABYGIRL!!” pictures, send me an email.

***EDIT*** By “know you” I mostly mean through here. Not necessarily only people I know in person. If you’ve commented here or we’ve emailed, yanno? I’m just not going to leave it open to public. There’s no ‘How well do you know kaya’ quiz to take or anything!

http://underhishand.com/in-charge

http://underhishand.com/?p=4511

Were Master in charge (snicker snicker snicker), this is what our Christmas decorations would look like:

We’d be the “Ditto” house, btw.

But since I am in charge (snicker snicker snicker), this is what our Christmas decorations do look like:

Of course, since he really IS in charge, this is what I look like:

And since he really IS in charge, my balking over posting pictures of myself wearing the most unsexy pair of pink granny panties ever made and with my hairy cootch trying to escape the sides went ignored.

I even tried begging on y’all’s behalf, claiming it was unfair to inflict such trauma upon your innocent selves. Sad to say, he was unconcerned with all of y’all. Feel free to strike him from your Christmas card list. I have. *nods*

(really he just wanted to show off his latest attempts to create heart shaped bruises with that stupid, f**king heart crop. Do you see any heart shapes? Me neither! Give it the fuck up already, man!

Also, since he’s in charge, he gets to wompalomp on other people’s asses while Mean-Ass Jack–erm, I mean, Sir Jack womped on mine.

Judging from how the other girl’s ass looked:

-I’d have to say I got the better deal.

(And don’t you just know that that statement is going to be taken as a challenge to BOTH fuc– erm, I mean both sadists.)

(And since I know it IS going to be taken as a challenge, this is where I try and insert facts about ‘leather ass’ and ’she’s an easy bruiser!’ and other such ignored comments.)

Anyway! Enough about asses.

Let’s talk about ear-cupuncture.

As in, poking needles into your ear.

(See what I did there? Acupuncture in your ear? Ear-cupuncture. Ha!)

I expected lots of pain. I mean, come on. Needles belong in boobs and asses and such, not in your ears! But it was surprisingly not painful. A little pinch, that’s all.

Ear-cupuncture is for relaxation (and something else but I forget what), and let me tell you… relaxed isn’t the word. Stoned-without-the-munchies is a better phrase. There were several of us who got our ears poked and for awhile there I was thinking we’d have to postpone the rest of the party. We were all lounging about, yellow spines poking out of our ears, practically drooling on the furniture.

It was pretty cool. Funny-looking, but kewl, man, kewl.

So the Kinky Christmas party was full of awesome. I got to watch a guy get wrapped, head to toe, in tight-tight-tight duct tape. I got to watch Master be mean to people who weren’t me. There was good food, good company, presents(squee!), and some pain, too.

There were prizes (we didn’t win. Boo.) donated by Katana Works. You should check them out. Really great leather products, plus lots of other stuff.

We didn’t come home until–jeez– musta been going on 3 a.m. Sore, tired, happy. What more could you ask for??

~cunt

http://underhishand.com/sannas-gingerbread

http://underhishand.com/?p=4504

Wouldn’t you know that as soon as I mention that my oven is broken, one of my evil friends taunts me with a recipe.

Though I haven’t tried it (yet), I’m sharing it here because it’s perfect for the holidays. Also because I’m going to need help with it and all of you Domestic Goddesses can do that!

First she warns: They’re not healthy. No way. They’re yummy, fatty, time consuming and comfortfood – did I mention yummy? (Those are my favorite recipes, dontchaknow.)

~~*~~

Here is Sanna’s Gingerbread:

2½ sticks of butter, assuming they’re 4oz each. (Use REAL butter, real dairy butter, no less than 75% fat!)
1 cup of dairy cream, 40% fat
10oz white sugar
4oz brown sugar
5oz sugar beet molasses (there’s usually white, light and dark – look for the light or dark one)
2 tbs ground ginger
2 tbs ground cinnamon
2 tbs ground cloves
½ tsp ground cardamom
½ tsp ground allspice
2 tbs baking soda (bicarb)
2.5-3 lbs all purpose flour, unbleached

Add the spices, minus bicarb, to a pot (if one likes gingerbread to be a bit stronger, 3tbs of spice is prolly better). Heat the pot for about two minutes. Add butter, so that it melts. Add molasses straight to pot.
Mix the sugars in a big bowl of some sort. Whip the cream smooth in another bowl. Take a third (YES!) bowl and add 2 lbs of flour and the bicarb.

Pour the melted butter-spices-molasses mix in the bowl with sugar. Add about half of the flour. Add the whipped cream. Add the rest of the flour.
Now add more flour if needed. The dough shouldn’t stick to your fingers, be soft but still firm enough to knead.

Cut in four pieces. Curse over the grease getting everywhere. Wrap pieces in plastic, put two in the fridge and two in the freezer. The freezer ones are
so that you won’t need to make more dough once you run out of cookies. Let it rest for several hours or even days. The dough in the fridge will keep at least 14 days. Bake out when you’ve got the time.

Take HALF of one wrapped piece of dough and wrap the rest again. Put it back in the fridge. Quickly do your thing with the cookie cutters and stuff, before the dough melts on you. Add more flour if needed. They should be about 1cm (uuuh… just under ½ inch) thick before going into the oven. Add cookies onto a bakingplate on bakingplate paper.

Bake in the middle of the oven at about 300F, for 7-10 minutes depending on how you like them. Get them off the paper and set to dry on a rack. Store in large tins. Protect them from children, who will devour them before supper.

The recipe should give you about 200-300 cookies, btw. Enjoy!

Merry Christmas
Sanna

~~*~~

She and I then discussed the “sugar beet molasses”, which is something I’d never heard of. I’ve found that sometimes trying to share recipes with people who live in other countries, the language barrier can be a stickler.

Though she did a terrific job changing the measurements for me. I’m only slightly confuddled having to calculate oz and lbs to cups.

Anyway, here’s what she said about the molasses: I checked it on Wikipedia, and I was wrong about it being molasses. I’m quite sure you can use your regular gingerbread molasses, but the stuff I’m using is called Golden Syrup in the US. It may be hard to find in the US outside of Louisiana, apparently. Do your best, otherwise turn to molasses and adjust the recipe accordingly.

Now, I’ve never heard of gingerbread molasses either. In fact, I’ve never cooked with or used molasses ever. Do we have any molasses experts reading along? Can anyone shed some light upon what that ingredient would be in the states?

Another question would be to verify if the “40% fat dairy cream” is heavy whipping cream? Or is it milk? I’m assuming it’s heavy cream but again with that language barrier. I want to be sure.

And lastly– 200 to 300 cookies! Holy Cookie Abundance! Any ideas on if the recipe would work just as well being halved?

I can’t wait to try this!

(crossposted to Domestic Servitude)

http://underhishand.com/because-kitten-said-i-had-to-update

http://underhishand.com/?p=4500

Kitten sure is a bossy one. I’m linking her so’s y’all can go over to her place and harass her. You’re all still in my posse right? Kaya’s Cheerleaders and all that?

We overslept this morning. Master rarely ever, ever, ever oversleeps. I don’t know what woke me up, but I looked at the clock and saw that it was about 2 minutes before the time he’s usually walking out the door and just about shit a brick.

I was like, Dude! Do you see what time it is? and he did one of those slow-motion type shiiiii-eeeeeet! cries and jumped out of bed.

So he threw on his clothes while I ran out and got as much ice as I could off the windshield (I’d kill for a garage. Srsly. Anyone wanna come build us one?), and he was out of here.

That just makes a day start out like crap. No shower, no breakfast, no coffee. Poor guy.

He called me a little bit later and whined. “I still got lube on my dick!”

Hee. I was amused. He’ll be slip-slidin’ around in his underoos. *snicker*

~~*~~

There is really nothing of interest going on here.

Like… nothing.

My oven is broken. The part that is ordered won’t be in until the 17th, so no Christmas baking yet (or at all perhaps).

I’ll probably make some of that peanut butter fudge for the kinky christmas party tomorrow.

I’m working on my gift exchange stuff for said kinky party. I’ll post pictures after I’m done.

My house is a mess. I have numerous half-finished projects of sorting/rearranging so there are boxes stacked here, there and everywhere. I do that shit all the time. Start something, get halfway though and then get tired of it. Do y’all do that?

I *want* to go into town but Master said the roads were bad. Plus, I’m not showered or dressed yet. Plus, my car is literally buried. Plus, I’d have to snowblow the driveway first and it’s fucking bloody cold out there.

So I’ll probably do none of the above.

It’s not like I don’t have enough to do here to keep me busy anyway.

I’m enjoying my Babygirl lots. Jes was gone for almost a whole month visiting the other side of the family, and jeebus but they change a whole bunch in one month!

She’s starting to have moods, and express desires. She’ll get mad if you take away a toy that she wants. She cries if you walk out of the room (or cries if you walk in and she doesn’t want to look at you. She is SUCH a diva already). She grunts and squeals. She’s just darling.

You know what she doesn’t do though? She doesn’t laugh. We’ve gotten a few chuckles out of her, but none of those adorable baby belly laughs yet. Jes keeps asking if that means there is something wrong and I just tell her that Babygirl just doesn’t think she’s funny.

I’m not worried. She smiles all the time, she coos and “talks”, plays. She’ll laugh when she sees something funny. She’s only just turning 5 months anyway. Hardly an age where we need worry about anything.

I’ve already bought and given her her Christmas presents. Hell, she doesn’t know what day it is. We got her a rainforest jumparoo (that she loves! You should see her bounce!) and I picked up a highchair because she’s just starting solids. (In fact, this morning I was printing off babyfood information because I really want Jes to make her own. I did. It’s easy, it’s cheaper, and it’s healthier. I’m not going to do it for her though.)

This Christmas, she’s too little for it to be any fun. Next year though? I can’t wait.

Speaking of Christmas!! Do you know what the freaking date is? Do you know how many presents I have?? TWO! TWO!!! Argh!

Ummm…

Yeah. That’s all I got.

I told ya I had nothing.

Now go bother Kitten. She deserves it.

http://underhishand.com/spoon-fed

http://underhishand.com/?p=4493

Sometimes he lets me snooze for another 10 or 15 minutes in the morning while he’s contemplating life on the bathroom throne. Today though, with snow whirling and blowing outside and a truck that I knew I’d have to clean off and warm up, those decadent 15 minutes weren’t given.

So I got up. 4:30am.

I mean, it’s bad enough having to go outside AT ALL when the wind is gusting at 30mph, whipping hard little pellets of icey snow on every uncovered part of your body. But at 4:30am, straight out your bed and not even awake? Major ball suckage. Srsly.

However, I am da slabe. I do the snow and ice and wind gusts. It is my lot in life. ~dramatic martyrical hand to forehead~

It wakes you up though. I’ll give it that much.

Once the truck was cleared of snow and the heater running, I came back in, made coffee and waffles, got his lunch together (leftover homemade chicken noodle soup from last night’s dinner, a turkey and provolone sandwich on a deli roll, and a navel orange), took that out to the truck, turned on the news station he likes to watch while he eats, sat quietly at his side while he did such, followed him down the stairs with his travel coffee mug filled and ready, sat on the step giving him his quickie morning backrub while he put on his gear, stood still for the morning ritualistic nipple tweaks and ass slaps, kissed him goodbye and stood at the door until he was in the truck and out of the driveway.

In that order.

I was feeling quite pleased with myself and my service. I’d been pleasant, smiling, eager in my tasks.

My “gift of submission” had been prettily wrapped and handed over with a bright, shiny bow.

So a tad later in the day, he calls me up.

I was all a’twitter, still, with self-satisfaction.

In other words, I was ready to reap my rewards. My “good girl’s” and head pats and praises.

I smiled into the phone. “Hello, my darling Master!” I exclaimed joyfully. I was THIS close (See here: >.<) to bursting.

“Bitch. You forgot to pack me a spoon.”

…

Cue deflation.

~grin~

I know that I’m differently wired, but to tell the truth, I got more squishy from “Bitch, you forgot my spoon” than I would have gotten from him telling me how much he appreciated my pretty, pretty gift.

I luffs him.