One of these days I’ll learn that this mouth of mine is nothing but trouble. When I was a kid, if it wasn’t spitting out atrocious piles of bull shit, it was verbally upchucking stuff I had no business revealing. Thankfully, I haven’t done the latter in years.

I can hear you already. “So what’d ya do this time?” Do you have any idea how incredibly, ridiculously stupid I feel every time I hear it? “What’d ya do this time, Rayne?” or “Boy! He’s in rare form. How’d ya piss him off this time?”

Yeah, yeah…I know. “But you’re such a good girl! How could anyone think that?” Did you guys miss my little excerpt on how Mrs. Perfect fell? Yeah, well, this time she fell harder. If that’s at all possible.

So I guess it’s a good thing I haven’t said anything about spoiled brats, yet. Cause I think I take the cake. Last night, I was so incredibly selfish and spoiled I am ashamed to even write about it. I mean, being spoiled is one thing. Throwing tantrums and being manipulative to get your way because you want to be spoiled more…well, that’s a different story.

Master had four days off from work because of Thanksgiving. And He spent the entire time with me and my family. We had so much fun. Master and my father got along great. Everything that I was worried about turned out to be unfounded. Everyone had a great time.

My family left early Saturday morning. Master and I went to our friend’s shop (where we were married) to bring him a pie and a few other things and then went to pick up dinner cause neither of us were particularly in the mood for leftovers. We spent the rest of the day playing cards and cuddling and stuff. It was, all in all, a good, warm-fuzzy day. I love those.

Sunday went pretty much the same for the most part. We didn’t go anywhere, just stayed home and played cards and watched tv. We sat down to watch the shows we normally watch on Sunday night (10-8, Alias, and The Practice) and no sooner does the show start, but his ex IMs him.

Most of you, knowing that he has no kids with her, and they share no mutual friends, and they’re states away from each other, would think, “Why the hell does he still talk to her?” And that was my take on it for a while. “What the fuck? Their relationship ended badly. He had the opportunity to go back to her and chose me instead. There’s nothing tying him to her. So why the hell does he still talk to her?”

Well, I’m not sure why he did it before. I was suspicious that he only talked to her because it pissed me off and he knew it. Sort of an, “I’ll talk to who I want, when I want, and you, as the slave, had better get used to it,” type of thing. And who knows. Maybe that’s what it was for a while. Maybe not.

All I know is that one of the reasons for it now is because I have all but begged him to talk to her so that perhaps we could vacation to where she lives and have a third to play with. I know there are many other reasons. I’m positive he enjoys her company. I mean he would never have dated her if he didn’t. And oddly enough, he has the capability to remain friends, at least to a point, with his exes. I never could. I generally break up with people cause I can’t stand to be near them anymore. Heh.

In any case, I’m straying from the point.

Where was I? Ah, yes. She IMed him. So I’m sitting on the floor next to Master’s feet and I hear him typing away to her and I begin to get jealous. Not of her, mind you. I have no reason to be jealous of her. I’m married to him. I’m his slave. Not her. But I’m jealous that he’s talking to someone else when we’re watching our shows.

The fact that I knew it was her had nothing to do with it. It could have been anyone. His boss, his best friend (who is male), his daughter, my father, Satan. I still would have been jealous because he was paying attention to something other than me during “our time.”

At some point he mentions that he’s arguing with her (which was obvious by the way he was pounding on the keys on his keyboard), and I look up with a venomous look on my face, and with sarcasm dripping from my voice I say, “What are you two arguing about this time?” Mistake #1. Naturally that pissed him off and he ripped my head off.

So instead of apologizing and backing off, being the spoiled little bitch that I am, I decide to get an attitude and twist things as best I can in my head and convince myself that he is responding to me this way because he’s talking to her and it can’t possibly be because I’m in the wrong. He never responds to me like that unless he’s talking to her and besides, I’m his little girl! There’s no other reason for him to treat me that way except that he’s talking to her.

It never once crosses my mind that he always reacts that way when I’m sarcastic. That she’s not around for him to show off for (she can’t hear or see him through a computer screen). And if she was around he would correct me as discreetly as possible (as he always does when we’re around people) and then go back about his business, sending me back to mine.

But worst of all, I convince myself that my tantrum is warranted and so was my tone when I asked what they were arguing about because I was the one being wronged. I mean, really! How dare he take time away from me during our shows to talk to anyone, much less her! And naturally, my attitude is perfectly and completely noticeable. Mistake #2.

Later in the night I was being all pouty and really quiet and just all out annoying. Master asked me what was wrong and I said nothing. Repeatedly. Mistake #3. Finally I told him why I was acting that way and what was wrong.

Today, he asked me what was wrong again because I was still being a bitch. I said nothing because, other than what I had already told him, nothing was wrong. Then he tells me what he thinks is wrong. And I go off. I told him exactly how I felt and that I thought it was unfair and that I wanted to be treated the same when he talks to the ex as he always treats me and on and on and on and on and…. Mistake #4. I’m out.

Truth is, he was treating me the same as he always treats me. I was the one that was acting differently. I was the one that was out of line. I had gotten so used to having every minute of his time that I decided that was how it should be always. I acted as though I had the right to demand his time and as if he had no right to deny it of me. I acted as though I was the mistress and him the slave.

I wasn’t putting him first. I wanted to make him see my point of view and manipulate him into doing what I wanted. I behaved like a spoiled child instead of the well-trained slave that he deserves. The only point of view that matters is Master’s, whether I think it’s skewed or feel differently or not. And from his point of view, I was being a spoiled little bitch and not the good slave he thought he had. And the way I acted is just not me.

And so now I’m sitting on a plug and trying to convince Master that I can do better. That the girl he’s witnessed for the past two days isn’t me. And if it is, in fact, me, then I will change because it’s not who I want to be. I hope against hope that things will all work out for the better. He means the world to me.