Archive for November, 2007

Master called His safeword!

November 8th, 2007 No comments

Today kind of sucks. I’m sick and exhausted and have absolutely no idea what to blog about so, unfortunately, you guys might be subjected to another babble session. I’ve had this cold for a while but it ebbs, then springs back up to kick me in the ass, then backs off again.

I meant to paint ladybugs on my fingernails today but I’ve been so busy putting ID on a bunch of blog directories that I completely forgot about it. Shameless self-promotion is never a bad thing, I always say, even if it means the ladybugs wait another day.

I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that I’ll never be considered a “good worker” at any job I have simply because my time is not my own and I can’t always rush to the aid of my employer when she decides she doesn’t want to go to work. I’m not entirely sure why with 7+ people clocked in at the moment, at least three of which are just plain redundant, they so desperately need me to fill in. I’m also not entirely sure why with 4 hired cooks it always falls to me to cover the shifts dropped by the others. If they want me to act as a manager I think it’s high time they pay me as one. And get rid of the acting manager since she never seems to want to work anymore.

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Status Report

November 6th, 2007 No comments

I don’t put things into words as well as I’d like. I’m not sure what that means, only that I listen to other people speak and read other people’s writings and I realize that I’m not very good at explaining what I mean. An example would be the grammar war I stuck my nose in on an art site Master and I belong to.

The quote in question was “…it is actually one my friend C did of my daughter and myself…” and someone piped up and said it should read “daughter and me”. “Daughter and me” is correct, because had the person been speaking of himself only the quote would have read “…it is actually one my friend C did of me…” I can’t seem to get across why it should be daughter and me and not daughter and I. People apparently paid attention when their teacher said you should put the other person before yourself in a sentence (because it’s grammatically correct to do so) but ignored the part about using I or me as you would use them if you were only talking about yourself. Anyway… that’s not important (aside from grammatical errors driving me insane).

Things have been a little weird around here. I’m in trouble less than normal but I’m also a little more outspoken than normal and I’m just waiting for Master to say, “Okay I’ve had enough of your feelings. Shut up.”

He’s decided He’ll be cleaning out the closet so He has a place to put me away. I’m not looking forward to it. Being mostly fearless, the small space doesn’t bother me, aside from being all sorts of cramped afterward. I’m not very good at entertaining myself so I’m worried about the boredom. And heaven forbid I should have trouble falling asleep on the nights He puts me in there to sleep. I’ll have no way of knowing how much time has passed.

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Blog Virgin?

November 5th, 2007 No comments

Having entered into this blogging thing mostly as a “blog virgin”, I’ve decided to do my research and perhaps churn out something a little more interesting for everyone to read. This blogging thing lets more people than I’m used to into that gray matter three feet above my ass and I keep finding myself ready, willing and able to open up, only to involuntarily slam the door shut again. So while I’m researching interesting topics and new writing styles and popular opinions and how they mesh (or don’t) with Master’s and my opinions, I’m more than willing to take suggestions. Of topics. Of blogs to read. Of things you’d like to see more of here. Lemme know 🙂
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Norway and an Ugly Girl

November 4th, 2007 No comments
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November 3rd, 2007 No comments

The day sucked. The evening was better. The sex was incredible.

We went to bed horny night before last and woke up horny yesterday morning. I don’t remember much of Thursday night. I was utterly wasted. I was used but I was so useless that Master had to go clean Himself up (usually my job). It’s funny how when He mentioned fucking me the first question I asked was “Was I wet?” then “Did you enjoy it?” and finally “How’d you clean up?” The last was really just because I remember barely being able to stumble onto the bed and couldn’t fathom being able to walk from the bedroom to the bathroom, stand in place long enough to wet a washcloth, then walk back to the bedroom, clean Him up, then back to the bathroom to clean myself up and put the washcloth in the washing machine and finally back to the bedroom again.

He likes it when I’m wasted. I can’t resist and I can’t always participate so it’s as close to rape as we can get seeing as I always want Him to fuck me. Although, we must never forget the nights I’ve woken up completely disoriented and tried to fight Him off not knowing who it was that was trying to use me. I love that after attempting (and failing) to get me to wake up enough to realize who He was He just kept on using me until I realized on my own. Sort of removes any question of whether or not He would take me, His property, whether I want Him to or not.

Yesterday I had a mandatory meeting at work. I always thought mandatory meant mandatory but the weekend PCAs didn’t even know about it (I wasn’t told until Thursday) and there were a few people who just didn’t bother showing up. Yet I got a dirty look when I told the stand in administrator that I wouldn’t be able to make it every Friday. Fridays are the only days I get to go out to eat with Master (even though we always have a tag-along) and Master is not willing to give up His lunches with me for a job He doesn’t want me to have in the first place.

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+ or –

November 1st, 2007 No comments

Before we went to Disney, I was spending a lot of my time depressed and whiny. Who am I trying to kid? I was down right bitchy. I was going through an avalanche of emotions that I just didn’t know how to deal with. And I wasn’t ready to confront them head on. I kept telling myself “Disney will fix it.” and “When we get back from Disney things will be back to normal.” and “A little bit of Disney magic will make things right again.”

I meant me. Disney will fix me. I’m not sure why I thought going to this wonderful place would make me feel better about things. But I was convinced it would.

Before we left, Master said something to the effect of “You don’t believe I love you because I’m hard on you. I wouldn’t be quite so hard on you if I didn’t love you so much.” I sat back in awe, once again, of His ability to read me (while wondering if I’m this transparent to the rest of the world) and tried to figure out what to say to Him. My whole life until I met Master I was painstakingly trained to keep my thoughts and feelings to myself in an attempt to avoid conflict or keep from hurting someone else’s feelings. And that’s been one of the hardest parts of this being a slave business from the start. Being open about my thoughts and feelings regardless of whether or not they might hurt Master or make Him angry.

At one point, I seriously considered giving up on reading blogs. Everywhere I turned someone’s owner was telling her how proud he is of her and how much he loves her and how special she is to him. And it felt like every minute of every day I was being told how much of a disappointment I am. It was breaking my heart.

I’m not sure if my frustration was aimed in the right direction. I’m not sure if I was mad at the right person. Maybe all I am is a disappointment. Maybe I was never cut out to be a slave. Maybe I took the wrong path way back when and I should have stuck with the one I was on. And maybe I should stop being so caught up in me and start worrying about the person who’s supposed to be the center of my universe.

What it comes right down to, though, is I was mad. No one ever tells me I’m a good girl. No one ever tells me they’re proud of me. And when I brought it up, or when I said “I’m nothing but a disappointment.”, or when I all but begged for some light in this pitch black tunnel I seemed to be walking in, I got slammed into another wall. And I began to wonder if I should believe it. And when I get too far down the believing path, I get into the mindset of “Well, if I’m nothing but a disappointment, why should I even try to be anything else?”

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