Friday, February 15, 2013
This is my arm, with a little reminder for myself that I don't have as much influence around here as I think I do.
It all started Wednesday morning. I was feeling down, for several reasons, one of which was dead and dying twin lambs. The other was that after Saturday there had been an understandable lull, and I was getting a bit antsy for more... something... didn't really care what, but something physical in the way of Master's attention. He noticed me looking kind of mopey and asked what was up. This is where one of those massive miscommunications started. One of those that I don't see when it is happening but only figure out what went wrong later when looking back at it.
He thought I might be sick. I said no, I'm just feeling a bit neglected and unwanted. Then he took me upstairs, spanked me a few times, let me use the vibrator to get off, and he came on my face. I felt grateful, and really thought he had done it just for me, so at the same time I felt horribly guilty that I had moped and sulked him into doing something with me right before he had to rush off to work. The more I thought the worse I felt (over thinking anyone?) and in the shower I cried.
When Master got home I apologized for being sulky, and described what I thought went on, and that was when he informed me that I was considering myself to have way more influence over him than I actually do. He had been planning to do that anyway, and my moping almost lost me that opportunity, except that he really did want to come on my face, so he didn't let my attitude get in his way. So I had everything all upside down and backward from his way of thinking, thus the reminder to myself that I am but a peon here, and he will do what he wants, not because I want it, but because he does.
Valentine's Day made it hard to remember I was but a peon. I was spoiled by Master with flowers, chocolates, a visit from Myst, and a great deal of beating and fucking. I still have cane marks on my inner thighs, and tawse marks on my ass. What hurt the worst though, was when I had the backs of my thighs whipped with the single tail. I cried and cried and sobbed. It really hurt. Really. A lot. But the crying was coming from somewhere else. Not just pain, but like it was opening up a direct line to my emotions and it had to all come out in the form of tears. Finally she stopped and had me breathe deeply and relax again.
Master mentioned that peon really should be peed-on, but anyway, that is not part of this story, so we'll just leave that one alone.
No, that's not my bed. And I'm not dead. I was getting worked over by two men, and looking pretty out of it at that point. ...
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