Defenseless

For those who haven't noticed, i did regain Master's permission to be on the internet, though i have been swamped with homework, which has put off my explanation far longer than Master intended...

In regards to Master's "Dacryphilia Vs Drama..." -- i basically got too sucked into the distractions Master permits me and failed to abide by His dictation. i put my own entertainment above His orders. Bad, bad, bad!

A fresh year...

Welcome to twenty-ten!

i have high hopes for this year, but no real resolutions. There are things i want to improve, for sure, but they are things that i always want. i want to become a better slave, be more pleasing to my Master and do better at the domestic stuff. i also hope to keep on top of the blog more this year, instead of kind of drifting along with it. But i'm not off to a very good start with it. i've logged in a few times and just can't really focus enough on the topics Master and i have listed for me to really make sense of them.

i want to stress, though, that what i write (and videoblog) about here, is what i think, how i think, and what works for us. Choosing to live in a BDSM or Master/slave lifestyle is a deeply personal thing. While a word can't be re-defined to suit an individual's purpose, there can be fine lines within those definitions.

Take my most recent videoblog, when i talked about not being submissive.

Merriam-Webster defines "submissive" as one who submits to others. i don't submit to others, i submit to one. There's a distinciton for me, because i am so strong-willed that with other people, i tend to drive things the way i want them to be. Because of that, i cannot see myself as submissive. "Submit" is defined as one who yields to governance or authority. i do that with my Master, but only with my Master. i submit to Him and obey Him.

For me, there is a difference. That's how the definitions fit me. They may not fit everyone that way, but its how the definitions fit my role.

winter...break!

Recently, Master talked about how hard it is for Him to share me with anything. How He works to be patient when the moment requires Him to be so. Which is something i admire in Him. And fear, too. There is something funny about the expression on a dominant's face when they are waiting...even patiently.

While i'm still not a hundred percent sure that being back in college is the right thing for us (i was deliriously happy when i didn't have to go anywhere), but it's what we're doing now. And Master has been amazing. Helping me find the time to get the work done and yanking me away from it often enough that i don't loose sight of the fact that He always comes first. (Oh, yes, we could go round and round about our kiddo being first, but i think i've done a good job balancing our son's needs with Master's wants.)

The hardest part about not being a stay at home type anymore is that i so badly just want to focus on nothing for a while, but Master tempers that, too. If i'm not getting something accomplished and i have due dates coming up, He's standing there prodding me to work. If i'm stressing about due dates and He realizes i'm winding myself up for no reason, He yanks me away from it.

Yes, we find some time for each other between His work, my college and our precocious child. Not as much as we'd like, but someday, that will change. He finds just enough time to remind me that everything i do is something He allows me to do, and that i'm not doing it for myself...but for Him.

Thankfully, my semester ends this Friday, leaving me over a month of time to catch up on chores, and spend ridiculous amounts of time sleeping in or not sleeping at all. And by not sleeping at all, i mean my Master probably won't be either.

WhooHoo!

past vs. present

Time. Slips away too fast. And there's precious little of it to be had.

The other night, Master and i had the good fortune to enjoy a bit of time together and Master did a really fantastic job with some bondage. It was lovely, the ropes holding me tight, keeping my arms folded behind my back... Inescapable. As difficult as it is for me to get into the headspace to enjoy being bound by rope, it's important that we do so. When we don't have the chance to play with rope, i tend to loose track of where i am, and how helpless i really am, how helpless i want to be.

The bondage was delicious, and Master was sorry that He hadn't thought to grab His camera.

The sad thing was when we were finished, there wasn't really time for us to spend together, snuggly in our roles, reassured by the fantastic bondage, sadism, masochism and sex. We had to go right back to regular life.

As i think about it now, i realize that even though Master and i have had BDSM incorporated into our lives for a third of our lives and all of our time together, i have always had difficulty handling jumping back into the "normal." Yes, our roles are part of our normal, but i want that connected closeness of Master and slave, i want that to last for at least a few moments before the "mundane" things claim their share of time. Post-scene, i want to just bask together in the enjoyment of it, the bliss of numbed limbs and stinging parts, the agony of over-stimulation, the delight of the carnal beings within us.

The day after, i was off. i was short, i was disinclined to do exactly as He asked me to do. Every step was a fight. i didn't want to disappoint Him, cause Him frustration. But i kept doing it. i'd apologize immediately, recognizing the potential trouble i was building up. When He told me that "i don't mean to cause you frustration" was beginning to loose its meaning, i completely went off the deep end. i snapped, i yelled, i threw dishes around in the sink. And argued more. All things He's told me i need to control better.

i blamed being tired, having a sore throat. Blamed a bout of insomnia. Being angry about being sick. He knew that wasn't all of it. He knew it and i didn't. Several hours after the outburst, i recognized that it was a selfish little desire that felt neglected rearing its' ugly head.

i want that closeness. i want Him to be all mine for just a few moments, to feel His arms around what belongs to Him every second of every day.

But this is another thing i am going to have to learn to control better, because that want isn't going to be satisfied every time. And it can't get in the way of the present moment.

Abiding realities

There's been BDSM bloggers (peruse our blogroll for "Under His Hand" and "The Journey") lately pondering whether or not the Master/slave relationships are merely an illusion. So many of us view our status as the slave or the Master as a permanent and unbreakable aspect of our relationships. So we strive to build lasting M/s relationships. But sometimes, even those lasting relationships face the loss of the M/s dynamic.

Sure, there are slaves being uncollared all the time, Masters walking away from their slaves, slaves walking away from their Masters, out to find someone more compatable. Rarely we see or hear about the M/s relationships that have become something more complex, where niether party wants to walk away from the other, but something keeps them from continuing in a M/s relationship.

And that leaves two people, whispering in the dark, trying to work out how to relate to each other.

my heart goes out to those who experience this... It terrifies me, too, as several times, Master and i have been trecherously close to throwing out the M/s aspects of our relationship permanently. Yet, what we have together is a long established friendship and abiding love. Neither of us can entertain the thought of parting ways, and yet, we know learning to relate to each other in a vanilla envrionment could very well be the scariest thing that we have faced in our lives. In thinking about this subject, my favorite Oscar Wilde quote comes to mind: "The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself."

All this talk comes down to the fact that each and every one of us, regardless of the length of time we have been involved in a Master and slave (or take your pick of terms) relationship, will always be individuals, doing our best to live together in harmony and sometimes, that just isn't possible. "Real life" and, by that, i mean outside forces, will muck up our best laid plans, and force us to places we never thought we'd go. Sometimes, a step back is something we have to do.

Once, four years into being my Master's girl and three years into being His wife, i essentially ran away from Him. i left our home, i left the city we lived in and the reach of His collar. At that point, i had never truly tasted independance. i had never lived on my own, outside of a home with family or with my Master. Six months later, He left the same to be where i was, because i'd learned something. i loved Him more than independance, i loved being with Him, being part of Him and my soul grew sick with longing without Him and without belonging to Him. That "step back" made me realize that the things i thought were important weren't, and what really mattered...

This post has been a bit of a ramble, but my point is, Master and slave relationships are kinky fun but once you throw deep, soul-connected, time-tested love into the mix it becomes a different creature entirely. Not only has the kink enticed us but the love has suffused every aspect of our roles bringing us to a point where they can't be used as a weapon for manipulation nor something that we throw away without a thought for the rest of our lives. The "playtime" M/s is over once love weaves its way throughout the dynamic and whether we mean it to or not, i think a part of us will always identify as the role we assumed inside that M/s relationship.

One final thought: may those special relationships infused with love, when "real life" requires them to step away from the M/s dynamic, abide with love.

Of piles and the past...

In one of my sometimes, occasional, rare, and completely unpredictable desires to become more organized, i found one of my old handwritten journals from years ago, which promptly caused the cessation of the attempt to cleanse some of my clutter. Of course i had to stop working on my piles and piles of papers, old bills, old newspapers (hey, i love the smell of newsprint and ink, not to mention criticizing the heck out of the typical graphic designer) and other random bits of my collection to read said journal. It's in my nature to be nosy, and i'm often the victim of my own curiosity. (Is that a sad thing?)

Regardless. This old, handwritten journal was an interesting look back on what my submission meant to me at the time, about what i thought was important to our M/s and D/s dynamics, about who i was and where i thought we were going. In reading those old entries (from 2003, by the by) i realized a few things about where i've come from and what i believe.

As i skimmed the old, black journal, and my burbly little-girl-like handwriting in brightly coloured (and sometimes glittered) inks, i realized that at the time i had no idea where our relationship was going to take us, i was very selfish about what i received from the relationship at the time, and lacked confidence in who i was and my importance to Master. The beliefs inherent in the writings suggested that i was extraordinarily fragile, afraid of my shadow and that what i wanted from the relationship was as important as what Master needed.

Looking at that, surrounded by my piles (and evidence of my inclination to save everything) i'm pleased to say that i see some positive change in myself. Not only has my handwriting matured (though my taste for brightly coloured inks has not) but my nature as my Master's submissive has changed as well.

i know Master has hopes for how our relationship matures, and that there are bloggers out there that i read who have the kind of 24/7 M/s relationships that Master would like us to grow into. Not that we'll be exactly like them, (i'm not quite as masochistic as Kaya and CarrieAnn are, for example) but further from the place where i question and doubt what He expects. i see progress there, i really do ─ i'm getting better about keeping doubts and questions out of His ears ─ and i see how far i have yet to go.

i see the difference in myself when i look at His needs, and ignore my nagging "wants", because i am beginning to see those "wants" of mine as superflous, more like decorations on a cake (not even quite as important as icing). i am feeling more confident in my place with Him, and know that i do hold value to Him, despite the fact that i am nothing more than His property, an object.

It was a fascinating experience, to see the differences between then and now so clearly. Now, someday, i kind of hope to find the very first journal. Which i hope is still somewhere among the stuff Master and i have hauled around for the last decade. But it will have to wait for another one of those rare days when the desire to be rid of the pack-rat piles strikes.

Biting my tounge...

Master and i have struggled for a long time with my nature to control the environment i am in. There's a reason for this, for my dissociation, my desire to know what's coming next. The reason i have chosen not to face for years. Like all things, no matter how tightly they are packed away in your mind, it has emerged, no longer an abandoned memory stuffed into the recesses of my mind.

The memories are not the subject of this post, as i have spewed those memories elsewhere, and now, after Master and i have discussed them, i am going to attempt to curb my desire to control the situation, to be present instead of retreating when things get too hard and to fall again into that place of trust.

It's not easy. Master plans and plots a scene, and though i know i will benefit in being of service, being a pleasure to Him, i will ask question after question. Often leading the scene to destruction because i refuse to release my hold on expectations.

Even knowing where my questing tongue will lead the scene, and how it will make Him feel, as i attempt to curb my tongue, my body language betrays me. Being stiff and slack shouldered keys Master into the fact that i am holding back and not fully releasing myself into His hands. And He will ask, and i have to tell, leading to the ruination of the scene because biting my tongue wasn't enough.

And how that frustrates me and leads me into feeling like a failure.

i'm happiest with Him when i have relinqueshed control, when i allow myself to be present in the moment, sinking into the bliss of being His property, His plaything. In those moments, i feel more alive than ever. Over and over again, Master has proved that He knows me, down to the deepest core of smoky quartz of my soul. Master has shown me that He is the light that burns through me, that with Him, i become a blaze of light and allow myself to be who i really am.

Every moment with Master becomes a moment of bliss when i give myself over as completely as i promised when i chose to accept His collar. Every moment i am present, i become more than average.

It is time for me to allow the psychological damage to be burned away in trust. It is time for me to be greatful for every moment of our lives when we are who we are together. That means no more questions, no more slack-shouldered stiffness... It means, truly accepting that i am His, proudly, in every moment, without questions and doubt.

It is time to fulfill my promise to the one who owns my heart, my Master.

Metal

Master has a fetish for metal. Handcuffs, leg irons, chains... He loves it. The color of it, the chill of it, the permanence of it.

For me, i prefer the softer things - leather, rope (yes, Master, i know i gripe about it), duct tape, saran wrap... To me, these things feel more like an embrace, being held in Master's ownership.

To me, metal is cold, uncaring, unloving, inescapable. It is something that i loathe first and love last. Cuffs and leg irons bite into me, making me edgy, uncomfortable and sometimes afraid. Metal scares me before it can excite me.

And, while we've used handcuffs, leg irons and chains (including a choke chain collar) in our play, i had never felt cold, unyielding metal around my neck. The choke chain has always had some give to it, and being chained (like my little icon at the start of each of my entries) always left me some movement.

Things change.

A box arrived in the mail yesterday, and i had sneaking suspicions about what exactly Master had ordered. In truth, i wasn't sure how i would handle it, if my suspicions were confirmed. When Master finally got home and opened the box, it was indeed as i had suspected and at first opportunity, Master locked that steel collar around my neck. (By the way, we both adore Autumn's sub-shop.)

Metal is cold. Unyielding. Unforgiving. Cruel. Inescapable. Heavy.

In part, i think the reason Master has such a fetish for metal is because it becomes so inescapable.

At first, all i could think of was the weight of it, and while that never went away, i was also reminded of how much my position as His slave is like that collar. This is something that doesn't go away just because it's uncomfortable, or too much. Because of the time that Master and i have invested in our Master/slave relationship, we (together) have made it something that i cannot leave. i cannot escape. i don't want to escape.

But it's heavy, rough, unyielding, inescapable.

Regardless of whether or not He locks that collar around His property's neck, i am His, and the weight of that, the cold, inescapable nature that is now present in our scenes, in our day-to-day lives, is always with me.

And the collar being locked around my neck -- i can't say i was comforted by its cold grip, that i handled the inescapable nature of it with perfect grace -- but as much as i prefer the leather collar Master uses on me, i did enjoy the physical reminder that i cannot escape.

After all, i helped Master build the cage of my life.

Hard Work

It is said that birth order has a lot to do with our emerging personalities as we get older. Only children are more assertive and yet more withdrawn from social interactions than the “babies” of the family. Middle children are laid back and go with the flow, but the child who has younger siblings is often bossy and directive.

i wanted to go into all of that because my submission doesn't come very naturally for me – i am the older sibling in my family. While i'd rather that someone else take the lead, mostly i want them to lead in the direction i want to go. All of this sometimes makes it very difficult for me to submit. i have an idea of where i want to go, and while Master encourages me to communicate these thoughts and desires with Him, it's His decision, His will, that guides us through the journey we are taking together.

Master, incidentally, is an only child. He is assertive, knows what He wants and has few qualms about the how of indulging His cravings. He is very naturally dominant – but He does tend to withdraw Himself from social interactions that are not happening on His terms. Usually meaning, the bossy, directive girl has made her presence known.

It's a reoccurring lesson in our household. Master's wants, not mine. Master's desires, not mine. His slave is just His property, an object.

People in 24/7 Total Power Exchanges (TPE's) often mention “brainwashing”, but i've found that to be a misnomer. The dominant partner in TPE's is actually in a sense, re-sculpting what already exists. i don't believe the essence of the submissive/slave is washed away in these relationships, but built up and shaped to suit the dominant partner. And that's not, in my opinion, “brainwashing”.

i've not thought that Master was “brainwashing” me, but after the mini-scene we had last night, i do see that i am being changed, subtly, to accept Master's will without thinking of what i want.

Laying there, bound and hearing Master talk to me as an undercurrent of the pain He was inflicting, i realized that i have fought Him at every turn as He put a rule in place (even if i suggested the rule), until i come to the point where i realize that His will is stronger than my own, and i want to be an obedient slave He is proud to own. Trying to answer His questions while my brain was busy processing the pain, my thoughts were running in circles around the fact that i need someone to create structure for me.

In the years we have been together, He has worked with me, He has created the structure that i need to function without floundering. He has changed me from a sometimes masochist to a pain slut, from a girl who was timid in bed to a writhing whore and is changing me from an opinionated and bossy brat (not attractive qualities, are they?) to an intelligent, thinking and willing slave. He has invested His time, His masterly energies and His sadistic tendencies to build me into something more than i was.

i'm not perfect. i'm disobedient, willful and opinionated. But He knows these things. And more and more, He refuses to give in to my whimpering and whining. More and more, He is working the willful and stubborn streak out of me. He is continuing to sculpt me into the slave He desires.

i'm happiest as a submissive – and more so as His slave. While blind obedience does not come naturally, i feel grounded and centered when i am pleasing to Him. The world scares me less now that i identify as His property than it did when i was the eldest child being bossy and directive. Now that i work to follow Him as He wishes, i feel more confident in my skin. i know that there is still a lot of work that needs doing – but i trust that Master will do what it takes to bring me to a place where i cease to question His will, where i can remember it's never about what i want, but what He thinks i need.

In Flux

Though we've had almost ten years to establish our patterns, protocols and rules, they have always been in flux. Often, i challenge the things He wants (though honestly without meaning to). Our household, and the way we have run it, is another thing that is constantly in flux. Which quite obviously, contributes to changes in our dynamic.

Entwining real life and a 24/7 M/s relationship is always a challenge. Especially, when the parties involved are both opinionated and have their own ideas on how things work and who is responsible for what. (Yes, i am an ornery, opininated girl. Go figure.)

For example, i've never been great at managing household tasks, but even though i'm a bit of a recluse, i have been pretty comfortable working outside the home with other people. This is not the same for my Master. Though He was a bit...messy...in His younger days, He had a better grasp of managing to operate a clean home, but is rarely comfortable working outside the home with other people. So when i have thoughts about what should be where, when the dishes should be done, where things belong and how often the carpet needs to be vacuumed, Master has His own thoughts and it's often hard for me to come to terms with that.

Recently, i've had a bit more inclination to run a cleaner home (though i still have yet to figure out how to balance all the things that need doing) but, my skills outside the home may need me to leave the managing of a functioning household to my Master. As i know it is His least favorite task, i feel guilty for not being able to do a better job of it.

All this, leaves me in a state of flux - the reorginization of priorities and managing being away from home and yet, still manage to come home to Master and be His, without question and without challenging His systems. Despite the fluxes, i am sure that in time, we will again find a balance to our lives and our dynamic. But in the meantime, both of us are a little edgy, a little overly critical (okay, maybe i'm the one that's overly critical) and frustrated by the need for changes in rules and protocols.

Nothing in life is ever set in stone - especially not in a 24/7 dynamic. In fact, as of yet, i don't know if i will cease to be His stay-at-home slave or if i will have to balance a career and my slavery. Things may change tomorrow, or not for weeks, months or whatever time measurement is appropriate, but they may not change at all. It may be that my focus needs to continue to be learning to manage the home better than i have.

Whatever it takes, i want Master to be happy with me, in whatever situation real life and our 24/7 lifestyle require.

Why i am His...part two

Master has always been there for me in my life, in one form or another. We met a long time ago (i'm under 30, and so if i say a "long time ago" i mean, more than 15 years ago) and He has always held a place in my heart as a friend. Being constantly aware that i am extremely lucky to have someone who knows me so well be my Dominant has boosted my ability to relinquish control.

Belonging to Master, i don't flinch when He calls me "whore," "slut" or anything that some might consider degrading, but i do blush. When someone outside of the relationship has called me such, i just raise my eyebrows. i know i haven't become desensitized to the words, because when He says them, they still have a huge impact on me, but in other mouths, they have become meaningless. Because i know that Master knows me better than i know myself, not only do those terms humiliate me, but they also, beneath the actual syllables, remind me of how much He loves me. As i said, He knows me better than i know myself, and in that, i find comfort and solace.

The relationship that we have together is a truly amazing dynamic, sometimes i amuse Him, others displease Him but i am always loved and treasured. Sometimes, i don't feel the love as much as the displeasure as i am extremely sensitive to His general mood, but deep in my heart, i cannot doubt that this Man, who i have known for more than half of my life, and belonged to for over a third of it, will always do His best to help me grow and love me.

i am aware of my flaws, and am sometimes ashamed of them. Master doesn't let me wallow in those feelings. "Who do you belong to, bitch?" He'll ask me. "If I didn't think you were worth anything, would you belong to Me?"

And in those moments, while i'm blushing, humiliated and trying to climb out of the pit of self-abuse, i know that Master is always working to build me up, to help me overcome the things about myself that aren't my best qualities. He tears me down so that i can feel His love, and builds me back up to fly through that love as a stronger person, better submissive and happier slave.

Because my Master knows me so well, i am worthless and yet treasured beyond the highest value. Because He cares about how i see myself, He shows me who i am to Him.

And that is also part of why i am His.

Finding my place

Though this blog has missed the great portion of the struggles my Master and i have had during our relationship, there will forever be the nights that i am discomforted and Master kindly offers to sit on my head...and a myriad of other moments when Master need enforce His ownership of me because of my poor behavior. Obviously, as this blog has already (in its infancy, i might add), witnessed several infractions.

Bah. i don't want to be the girl who needs to have her Master sit upon her head in the middle of the night because she's flopping like a fish. i don't want to need a week long six rule addition to my daily life to remind me to serve Master better. i don't want to see the evil, evil plastic spoon delivered to me because i was honestly bad, disrespectful or argumentative. (In other scenarios the evil plastic spoon can be quite entertaining.) i don't want my preferred condiment to be off-limits because i couldn't just let it be without arguing with Him about it.

i know that it's in me to behave. To be the adoring girl who rarely wracks up infractions. To be the girl who is the masochist to His Sadist.

But for some reason, despite knowing that i'm capable of behaving, i can't move beyond some of those silly behaviors that bring me across as the topping-from-the-bottom type. Right now, suddenly, i can't let go of my own "absolutes" (the things i think that i can't survive without or with, depending on). i know perfectly well how i am expected to behave, and i know that i can. i've done so on several occasions. Master doesn't have a large list of rules for me to follow, that i must strain to remember, and yet lately, i seem to be falling far behind of where i should be, considering that Master and i have been together for so long.

Why i am His...part one

Master and i were having a conversation the other day, spurred by a blog that i sometimes read about the why of our relationship and what makes 24/7 work for us. i am fascinated by how other people make BDSM relationships work for them, and know that not everyone can make 24/7 work...but i am glad that my Master and i are able to make it work for us...

When we first started dabbling in BDSM, there was a very separate distinction for me. Master was also my friend, lover, boyfriend and then husband, but never at the same time that He was Master – and then sometimes i would be His submissive, slave, toy and pet. For me, the lover couldn't exist when He wanted me to be His slave. i could, on occasion, marry the submissive with the lover, but, the BDSM lifestyle was very separate from what i could envision our lives being on a day-to-day basis. For me, it was just a little time to abandon reality.

It never was for my Master. For Him, He is always Dominant, always the Master and Owner and still the Friend, Lover and Husband.

In the long years of our relationship, i have come to see that i cannot break bits of myself off and leave them behind for a more convenient moment. We are what we are, whether we are Dominant or submissive, the Sadist or the masochist, and the like. All the time. At any given moment, whether i am making an independent decision or not, i still am, by nature, a submissive, who is collared and owned, who has a Master who makes her His slave, pet, toy and masochist.

Though i denied that the slave was part of the wife for a long time, she is. Denying that the worthless pet was part of the treasured lover, that the casual toy was also a beloved friend, was simply delaying the acceptance of who i truly am.

This is not to say that i am a diminutive personality outside of the home. Before i truly accepted that the smart, intelligent person that i am is also a whining, subservient bitch, i felt lost at every turn, every decision i had to make alone made my head spin. Now, though i am quiet and reserved, i am not afraid to voice my opinions, share my thoughts and make decisions. But only since i have accepted the fact that i am happiest when i am in some fashion, constantly under my Master's Domination.

For a time, until i could reconcile the fact that i am what i am, (after a complete rebellion against 24/7) what Master has quietly and gently guided me to, we tried “just in the bedroom” D/s. That was a disaster, because i wanted more when we were home together, not just in our bedroom. But not all the time, because, i still needed time to be His gentle, loving wife. So then we tried, “just when i was wearing His collar”. That was also a disaster, because, i would blur the lines when i wasn't wearing His collar, and then He would be Himself, and it was “too much” for His adoring lover. We also tried, “just when we were home” - another disaster, because i was still denying whole chunks of myself when we weren't at home.

After that debacle, Master essentially issued an ultimatum. Either we were going to fit BDSM into our lives, or we weren't. He was tired of me switching what part of myself He was interacting with at any given moment. It wasn't on and off for Him, and didn't think it was for me either.

i am now happy to say, that i am very much, a slave wife and all of the other things that i am, all of the time, despite my long denial of my true self. i am a slave girl, a toy, a pet, a wife, a lover, a friend, and a very grateful girl because her Master had immense patience on a difficult path, waiting for one very silly girl to accept herself.

Don't mess with my Ranch...

I have to say that it was a truly interesting evening. I thought long and hard regarding what to write about and after much debate I finally decided to just give it up and forgo tonight's entry. However, my darling slave property decided that she would provide me the perfect topic. W/we had had some discussion regarding diner plans. Should W/we order something? A pizza? Should W/we eat at home, perhaps some split-pea soup?... So I ordered some pizza and a salad for my slave.
After two long waits; one for the pizza and one for the very young delivery driver to return with my slave's salad, W/we finally had dinner.


Now, my slave is like a crack addict when it comes to Ranch Dressing. In my opinion, there are a select number of condiments allowed on nearly everything. Ketchup, mustard, maybe a little relish if you really need some tang. However, Ranch is not on that list. You don't ask for a foot-long hot dog slathered in Ranch dressing! Well, apparently some do, but come on! Any way, my darling slave property will slather everything in Ranch; not just coat, but slather. Chicken, pizza crust, you name it! So it shouldn't be a surprise that salads are no different.


There my slave sat, on the floor as per her current punishment, liberally applying Ranch dressing to her salad. Apparently the bottle was getting a little light as for over three minutes she kept choking the bottle trying to coax out every last drop. The unfortunate bottle kept making a wheezing sound as the last of its life's blood was coughed from its gaping mouth, sounding not unlike a dying asthmatic. Understandably, I wished nothing more than to put it out of its misery.


"Enough," I ordered, "put it down."


Now, I have given my slave grief in the past for this rather disturbing Ranch addiction and it still serves as the source of many friendly jibes and counter-fodder for O/our verbal sparring matches. So it was with a great deal of surprise and a rather unhealthy dose of disappointment for me that my slave threw a temper tantrum on the spot. She went off about how she was now relegated to a dry, tasteless salad and that I had, get this, no right to determine how she should eat!


I let her dig herself a hole for another couple of minutes before I bent her over and gave her ten swats on the ass with the plastic cooking spoon. (On previous posts the spoon has been referred to as the hated little object that hits like a cane, and I assure you that it did this time as well.) Following this my slave was turned back around so she could thank me as she should for punishing her, by kissing my feet. However, she was not done digging just yet. My slave went on to say, rather pointedly, that she has been putting a lot of effort into trying to make sure W/we eat healthy and that by telling her she had had enough Ranch, I was in fact calling her fat. What?! Oh, it gets better... she continued to argue with me! Here is my little slave, already under a week long punishment for disobeying a direct command repeated to her three or more times, and now she was bitching me out for denying her the chance to eat as much Ranch dressing as she wished.


I retorted with how amused I was that I can and will tell her what to eat, what to drink, what to wear, what to say, how to act, how to stand, how to sit, how to suck my cock, et certa. but how dare I tell her how much Ranch to have! I have tried in the past to allow her the choice of what to eat and drink and she was not happy until I decided for her, ordered for her, made her eat and drink what I wanted because I wanted. But Ranch! Oh thats the line in the sand!


I had to laugh. I explained to her that if she felt she needed more, then she could kneel at my feet and beg for more; never is she allowed to tell me that I was wrong to deny her. Also, that anything not required to sustain life is to be considered a privilege, and this includes stand-in condiments. Since her lust for Ranch dressing was what had caused her little pissy fit, then as punishment for her disobedience and severe misbehavior she is subsequently no longer allowed any Ranch, at all, for the rest of the month of April.


You want a line in the sand, bitch? That's mine!...