He told me if that was the best rebellion I could muster, I was well and truly broken. I don't know if he meant broken as a horse is broken to ride, or broken as in having no will of my own. It doesn't much matter which he meant after all. I feel both.
Everything is a result of everything else.
The emotions of the previous blog post (Summoned) were a result of yesterday.
Last night as I was lying in bed, dog tired and nearly asleep, the impulse (going quickly from a nagging thought to a mental requirement) to spring up and head downstairs to ask if he needed anything was a result of the events of earlier that morning.
Before that, my feelings of broken-ness were mingled with the surety that this is how it is meant to be. This is who I am. Is it a cliche to say that broken-ness is a whole-ness?
Before that, a tearful confession and apology, which made him happy.
A punishment, actually two punishments, which brought us closer together like a thunderstorm brings electricity and then clarity.
After the punishments, I adored having him address my feelings, show that he appreciated me more than I knew, and then throw me metaphorically to the ground in abject submission to his right to use me, overwork me and under appreciate me as he chooses.
Before that, utter verbal humiliation had already brought me tears. This was unrelated to anything I had done wrong. This is "fun" for us.
Earlier in the morning, I had neglected something I knew I should do, which led to some rough treatment and being reminded of my duties.
Before that, I was perhaps absent minded, perhaps tired, and perhaps feeling a tiny bit rebellious Sunday morning.
Now, I remember. Now I am clear.
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