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Flavor of the Month – Really, really long

January 16th, 2007

I have this terrible imagined reality. This thing that doesn’t exist and might never exist but it haunts me just the same. And every time Master shows even the slightest bit of interest in someone who isn’t even the tiniest bit submissive it sends me into a tizzy that I can’t come to terms

I read a story once, a true story, written by a slave whose Master was a little more into humiliation than I am. A little more sadistic than I’m comfortable with. And it’s hard admitting that and knowing that if Master went that way I’d submit. I’d cry and I’d beg and I’d probably lock myself inside myself and never be the same again, but I’d submit.

But His humiliation and sadistic nature had nothing to do with physical pain or lewd behavior. It was all emotionally and mentally based. An example: He tied his slave to a bed in a spare room and brought home a woman to fuck. He fucked the stranger in their bed and then when they were finished, he brought the woman into the spare bedroom and showed her his slave. After forcing her to lick them both clean, they both began to mock her. Most of this I could endure with no real problem. It was the things they said to her that would have killed me.

They told her she wasn’t woman enough to satisfy her man. That he turned to other women because she was incapable of pleasing him. That even this stranger, who was a prostitute, had a tighter pussy than his slave, who was a virgin when she met him. They spent the rest of the day making sure his slave knew that this prostitute meant more to him, pleased him more, was worth more than his slave.

They were husband and wife before they were master and slave. Master and I were Master and slave before we were husband and wife and
even imagining this being done to me makes me want to slit my wrists. Maybe because we were Master and slave before we were husband and wife? Maybe because it’s been so ingrained into my very being that I am here to serve and please? Maybe just because He means so much to me?

I had a dream once that He decided He wanted a vanilla life and a vanilla family but He wanted to keep me. To keep me locked away somewhere to play with whenever He wanted. So He divorced me. And He married another woman. And she knew about His slave in the basement and when He was at work she would come down and beat the shit out of me. She’d do horrible things to me.

He’d get home from work and ask what happened. She’d tell Him I did those things to myself and He’d always believe her over me. On top of whatever she’d done to me during the course of the day, He’d punish me.

And how’s this for avoidance? I just can’t think about this anymore right now.

I wrote the beginning of this entry at least a week ago. I hope to finish it over the next couple of days and to get across the emotions
that roil inside my stomach when I think about all the things that could be. The biggest problem is thinking about the fear triggers the fear and I start to lose where my mood was moments before.

It’s not that I’m afraid of sharing Master. I can share.
I’ll happily share. I’m afraid of being hurt again. Iâ??m afraid that whomever He
chooses will try to force me from His life. Itâ??s not an empty fear. Itâ??s
happened before. The attempt, I mean.

Itâ??s not that I donâ??t know who Heâ??ll choose in the long run.
I know that when itâ??s over, itâ??ll still be Him and me till the end. Itâ??s not
that Iâ??m afraid, really, that Heâ??ll put someone else before me, though Iâ??ve
told Him thatâ??s the majority of my fear. Iâ??m really bad about saying something,
meaning it the way it makes sense to me, and thinking it makes sense to
everyone else the same way.

There are things I donâ??t want to have to share. Our TSO
night every year, our wedding anniversary, that special bond we have, His pet
names for me and flirty games. It frustrates me when other girls feel the need
to be involved in things that have been just Him and me for so long. Nights I
feel are special and sacred, and thereâ??s some girl wanting His attention when
we should, in my mind, be focused only on each other.

Itâ??s selfish. Itâ??s a stance a slave probably shouldnâ??t have.
For isnâ??t it what the Master thinks is special and sacred that matters? Isnâ??t
it about what He wants?

And I feel wretched for wanting to exclude girls who might
one day be my chain-sister from â??familyâ? affairs such as these. But at the same
time, I view them as â??mineâ?. Odd, that. I donâ??t view Him as mine. He doesnâ??t
belong to me. But these daysâ?¦ these events that mark the years of our life
together passingâ?¦ these I do view as â??mineâ?. And theyâ??re no more mine than He
is unless He deems it so.

Thereâ??s been more than one female whoâ??s felt the need to
invade on our private, special, sacred times together. And on more than one
occasion, Iâ??ve gotten unbelievably angry over it. And instead of behaving the
way I should and saying something about it to Master and letting Him decide how
to handle it or whether or not it should even bother me, I go on a tirade.
Stomping around, slamming doors, throwing things, snapping answers at Him when
He asks questionsâ?¦ And in all this, I donâ??t know who Iâ??m more angry with. Her
for invading, Him for allowing her to, or me for letting it affect me so.

I have this image of the â??vanilla womanâ? that is based
solely on what I used to be like. Unfortunately, I have to admit that before
Master I never knew anyone well enough to base this on anyone else but myself.
When I was â??vanillaâ?, I craved attention from my SO. I had to have it. And if
anyone else got in the middle, I was pissed. No matter who that â??someone elseâ?

I wanted to be first, before anything else, in their lives.
I wanted what I wanted when I wanted it and if I couldnâ??t have it I didnâ??t want
them. I was, without a doubt, a spoiled brat.

Iâ??ve dated more than one guy who had more than one female in
his life. And if I was put on a backburner for another female, I walked away
forever. I wielded this control like a dangerous weapon and more often than not
I managed to make the men in my life push away all the other females and focus
all of their attention on me until I grew bored with them and set them free.
And the only thing I can see happening in a situation in which Master is
interested in a non-submissive woman is her pulling these stunts. Trying to
make Master jump through hoops to be with her. And making serious attempts to
make Him pay all of His attention to her and ignore me.

Thatâ??s why I say Iâ??m afraid of not being first. Thatâ??s not
entirely the truth of it. Iâ??m afraid of not being as important as any other
girl who comes into His life. Iâ??m afraid of not meaning anything to Him. I see
how much time He has now, imagine another person coming into our life together,
and imagine His time for me steadily decreasing until Iâ??m no longer even in the
middle of His mind, let alone at the forefront.

And I suppose this is an inappropriate worry for a slave to
have as well. But something Heâ??s always promised me is that I would always be put
before any other girl in the long run. This is not to say He would deny some
other girl things because I didnâ??t want her to have them, or that He would
include me in decisions regarding other girls, or even that she wouldnâ??t be as
important in His decision making process when something that affects all of us
is concerned. Iâ??m not entirely sure what it means. Except maybe that if the
other girl made it impossible for us all to remain together for whatever
reason, it would be her that would have to go and not me.

And even as I understand all of these things, Iâ??m still
terrified. Not necessarily of some girl coming between us. But of me not being
able to control myself if I feel like she is, even if itâ??s an unwarranted feeling.
Or of her intentionally or unintentionally hurting either Master or me.

This fear causes me to do things that really arenâ??t who I
am. Iâ??m not sure how many of you have been with me through all of this (the
blog, I mean) and Master still hasnâ??t gotten a chance to get me access to my
archive so I canâ??t link to the last entry I wrote on this.

Oh my godâ?¦ and I just figured out why it is this way. Funny
feeling, that. A light bulb suddenly going off.

Iâ??ve never been a snooper. Iâ??ve never been the kind of
person to go through peopleâ??s things. I never once picked up a second phone in
the house to listen in on a phone conversation (unless one or both of the
people told/asked me to). Even when I lived with my ex and knew he was up to no
good, I left his things alone.

He never afforded me the same courtesy and it used to
seriously piss me the fuck off. And thatâ??s really why I never did it. If it
pissed me off when it was done to me, it wasnâ??t right for me to do it to
others. And itâ??s strange that Iâ??m sitting here in a relationship where a man
has complete access to any and everything I do and Iâ??m not bothered by it. Iâ??m
actually flattered when He takes the time to go through my things and see what
Iâ??ve been up to, even when Iâ??ve said or done something that gets me into
trouble. It makes me feel like He cares.

When Masterâ??s interest swings in the direction of a
submissive woman, I usually know her. Iâ??m included in the conversations more
often than not. And if Iâ??m not, we all still talk to each other in a public forum
where all of us can be involved and He and she (as well as she and I, most
times) carry on conversations in private with each other. We all spend time
with each other. This seriously lessens the extent to which I feel threatened
in any way. I know, somewhat, whatâ??s going on. I know who the person is that
itâ??s going on with. And I know how Iâ??ll react to whatever the outcome is.

There have been two occasions where this hasnâ??t been the
case. Well, a third, sort of, but she doesnâ??t really count because it only
lasted a couple of days before she disappeared off the face of the interweb. I
doubt He even remembers her name, let alone that He was â??sort of interestedâ? in

Anyway, the first occasion was a submissive but one I had a
serious distaste for. I didnâ??t know her. I didnâ??t need to know her. I knew what
she was about. I knew how their last relationship had ended and I knew the
impact she tried to have on our relationship, shady bitch that she is, and I
just wasnâ??t interested.

A funny storyâ?¦ the first day Master took me to meet His
family, she called Him. I donâ??t know if she knew about me or not. I canâ??t
remember. I just remember that He was on the phone with her for over an hour.
When he came out of the house, He was incredibly apologetic. He had forgotten I
was there. And He couldnâ??t understand why I wasnâ??t angry. In my mind, there was
really no reason to be. It happens. We hadnâ??t been together that long. Big deal

Holy shit, this is huge. Iâ??ll have to separate it.

Anyway, the problem with me not caring to know her (and she
not caring to know me either) became that I also had no idea what was going on.
I never talked to her. I had no interest in talking to her. And asking Master
what was going on was like asking the wall who robbed your house. Heâ??d answer
my questions by being overly vague and it freaked me out. Part of this was
because I knew how quickly sheâ??d gladly stab me in the back (and it turned out
she was already working on it). Part of it was because not knowing somehow was
equal to Him planning to leave in my mind. He didnâ??t want to tell me what they
talked about or what the plan was regarding their relationship (or lack
thereof)â?¦ that meant I wouldnâ??t like whatever it was. And that could
only mean He was leaving me for her. Thatâ??s rayne logic for you.

I took to reading snippets of their conversations over His
shoulder. And then I took all the little snippets Iâ??d read and convinced myself
He was hiding something. And finally, when I just couldnâ??t stand it anymore, I
got onto His computer while He was elsewhere, and I went through His logs of
their conversations. And I was broken hearted by what I found.

Instead of admitting to what Iâ??d done and asking about the
things Iâ??d seen, I sulked. And when I got another chance, I went back and looked
at more. He was in the shower when I snooped the second time and I cried until
He got out. When He got out, I went off.

Finally, I told Him what Iâ??d done. And there was hell to
pay. Not only for sticking my nose where it didnâ??t belong, but also for letting
my mouth get away from me.

The second time was more recent. Just the other day, in
fact. Masterâ??s interest lately lies with a vanilla woman, along with other
places. A woman I donâ??t know. I donâ??t dislike her. How could I? Iâ??ve never
spoken with her. Not even so much as a hello.

Iâ??ve never really poked my nose in their IM conversations
and Iâ??ve not been around when theyâ??ve spoken on the phone. But I did stick my
nose in the text message sent folder of Masterâ??s cell phone. And it was like
the difference between oil and water, the change in my mood. I went from bubbly
and teasing to Satanâ??s bride in a matter of seconds.
By the time I told Him what changed my mood, I had already managed to
completely destroy any trust Heâ??s regained in me (if any).

When He asked me why I did it, I said because I was scared. And
Heâ??s given me ways to approach these fears. Soâ?¦. Problem solved, right? I guess
weâ??ll see.

I still donâ??t think I covered how the vanilla thing makes me
feel. Ah well. This is huge already.

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