Home > rayne > I’m perfect!… or something.

I’m perfect!… or something.

July 10th, 2007

I think itâ??s important to note that I never forget who and
what I am. Thereâ??s never a moment in my life that itâ??s not somehow pointed out
to me. But that doesnâ??t stop me (though it really should) from acting out,
lashing out, screaming in frustration. Being an all out bitch. And somewhere in
between I manage to set Masterâ??s head to spinning which results in â??remindersâ?.

A while back (a few of our readers who came over from Slave
Farm might remember this), we somehow found ourselves in a debate about the
differences and similarities in a â??robot slaveâ? and a well-trained slave. Master
mentioned to the person we were debating with that I couldnâ??t possibly be a â??robot
slaveâ? because Iâ??m often needing to be reminded who and what I am. Suddenly the
tune changed from â??robot slaveâ? to â??stupid slaveâ?. How on Earth could anyone
forget who and what she is?

I think itâ??s important to note that I never forget who and
what I am. Thereâ??s never a moment in my life that itâ??s not somehow pointed out
to me. But that doesnâ??t stop me (though it really should) from acting out,
lashing out, screaming in frustration. Being an all out bitch. And somewhere in
between I manage to set Masterâ??s head to spinning which results in â??remindersâ?.

I was asked in a forum somewhere how I manage to handle
things so perfectly. Donâ??t I ever get pissed off? Arenâ??t there ever feelings
that I just canâ??t reconcile with being a slave? Frustrations? Annoyances? Yes!
A thousand times, yes!

I get frustrated, hurt, confused, angry, sad, depressed,
annoyed, anxious, jealous, and a multitude of other â??negativeâ? emotions. I have
lapses in judgment and thoughts that are just â??wrongâ? for a slave to have (at
least from our â??Masterâ??s and mine â?? point of view). I get irritated with the
reality of what being a slave means to us. I get annoyed with the service
aspect and find myself thinking â??Well, Heâ??s not keeping His side of the bargain
because Heâ??s not doing so why should I have to keep my side?â?

One day, I spent at least twenty minutes getting back up the
second my butt cheeks touched the chair to go get Him something else. By the
time He had everything He needed, I was huffing and slamming things and
stomping. When He asked me what was wrong, I spouted off about Him needing
things the second I sat down and not asking me while I was already in the
kitchen and blahblahblah. He laughed at me. Laughed! And then said, â??Well, if youâ??d
asked if I needed anything else before you sat down, you wouldnâ??t have had to
get up again.� I wanted to fume back. I really did. But He had a point. And I
strive to make sure He has everything He needs before I sit down now. Or at
least not throw a tantrum if I forget something.

So yeah! Iâ??m the perfect slave! And Mother
Theresa too.

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