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PSA

June 25th, 2008 Comments off

So I just have something to say. It’s going to sound rude but it’s not meant to be.

I think I pissed someone off who I actually have a bit of respect for. In a post or a comment. I’m not really sure which because there are a couple of ways they could have gotten upset if they misunderstood me or took what I said the wrong way.

That’s fine. I’ve long since gotten used to people not always understanding what I say to them. I’ve tried changing the way I communicate but online without facial expressions and voice inflection (and sometimes a second chance at explaining oneself) it’s next to impossible to make sure every person I come into contact with will understand that unless we’ve gotten ourselves into some sort of pissing match (and often times even then) I really don’t say anything with malicious intent. If it hurts you, that’s not my intention ever. My intention is only to be honest.

At first I felt bad. I was racking my brain going over and over how or why they might be pissed off. And I tried to decide whether or not I would be pissed off if the tables were turned. Thing is, I wouldn’t. That could be because I understand the way I think. Most of the time. But I don’t really feel bad about it anymore. Especially since if they really are pissed off it makes more sense to just say so and they haven’t. So maybe I’m just paranoid.

Thing is, I’m not here to make friends.

I have been. And it’s awesome. I love having fellow slaves to talk to about whatever they or I need to talk about. The camaraderie is something I’ve been missing. And something Master’s been (sort of) allowing me lately. We really need to get on that search for a chain sister for me!

But the fact still remains that I post, respond to comments and participate in forums here (and some other places) because I’m under orders to. I can say pretty much whatever I want so long as I say it respectfully and without malice and I enjoy it for the most part but I wouldn’t be allowed to do it on my enjoyment alone.

Awhile ago I was telling Master about how if it wasn’t for… something – I don’t remember what… I’d have quit blogging ages ago. And He responded with, “With permission, of course.”

I stared at Him with disbelief. Running through my head was: Permission? Why the hell would I need permission?? I started this damn blog. I should be able to stop it whenever I damn well please. But logic got the best of me and I held my tongue. He wouldn’t say something like that if He didn’t have solid evidence for a specific reason why I couldn’t just stop posting. Something other than “Because I’m the Master and I said so.” I mean. Which is reason enough, believe me.

“Unless I’m mistaken, you’re under orders to post on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, correct?”

“Yes, Master.” I squeaked out.

“Then you’ll quit with permission, correct?”

“Yes, Master.” I whispered in utter defeat.

“I’m not giving you permission.”

“Yes, Master.”

So, see? I blog cause I have to. Not cause I want the whole of the universe to see what my mind and fingers regurgitate after a day or three with God.

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Tonight

June 25th, 2008 Comments off

Before Master left work, He gave me the option of plugging my ass to go to the store. No I’m serious. He asked which I would prefer. Naturally, feeling it was a trap, I said “Whatever would please you most, Master.”

I’m clever, aren’t I? Unfortunately, He wanted a real answer. What I would do if it was entirely up to me. And He refused to give me any real indication as to what He wanted.

I thought a moment. I weighed the pros and cons. And I came up with a definitive “I don’t know.” I am the most indecisive bitch this side of the Mississippi. No lie.

But seriously! Sometimes I like the plug and sometimes I don’t. And I can’t tell by just sitting there thinking whether or not I like it. I have to actually insert it to know if today is a good plug day or a bad plug day. And once it’s in, it’s too late to go back. I can beg to take it out… but more often than not that gets me a resounding “No, cunt. Deal.” So if I was free to choose for myself, I’d probably choose not to just in case it was a bad plug day. Save myself some trouble.

So, I told Him that. And He said “That’s a pity because it’s nice when a bitch wants to be dirty.” I started searching for the last place I stashed the plug. God damn did that hurt getting in when I finally found it (resting happily exactly where it belonged).

So Master came home from work and snatched me up so we could go shopping (I’m so sick of shopping. Can’t the groceries come to us?? Well, in our small town they can, but the store that delivers is expensive. I digress.). We needed coffee, deodorant and soap. At least that’s what I knew of. When He got home He told me we needed hot dog rolls. Thirty of them. For a work party I can’t go to. *pout* But in exchange for our demanded offering He gets a $50 gas card. That’ll get Him back and forth to work for almost half a week! We seriously need to get rid of the Durango.  Read more…

Categories: Rayne Tags: