So today on Fetlife there’s a discussion about polyamory that, having experienced a similar situation early in our relationship, really gets my panties in a bunch. And I had every intention of coming here all full of steam and ranting about it. Till I mentioned it to Master and realized He has a very different view. And while I don’t completely agree with His point of view, I understand where He’s coming from.

I know there are three sides to every story (yours, mine and the truth) and I’m willing to concur that there are probably important details being left out. But the basic gist is master moved in the exwife, exwife’s a bitch and slave can’t deal with it.

I won’t ever claim to get why people of every size and shape are willing to “just deal” with unnecessary discord in their home. I’m not talking about petty spats between spouses or children. I mean the knock down drag outs between a person who lives there permanently and a prolonged guest. But I didn’t come here to talk about the situation, per se. Well, I did originally and then changed my mind and decided to talk about how to handle difficult situations… from a slave’s point of view.

Things NOT to do: (Disclaimer: I am in no way saying the aforementioned slave did any of the following things. Just pointing out bad ways to handle uncomfortable situations.)

I was going to use made up scenarios, but my mind seems blank all of a sudden.

1. Manipulation: A serious no-no. Call it what you want. Topping from the bottom is what most call it. And it ranges in style. From the sneaky to the blatantly obvious. But either way you slice it, it’s out of line.
2. Ultimatums: I just can’t get down with slaves giving ultimatums. Self included, though I have in the past. It’s unfair and puts the person you claim to want to own you in an unwinnable situation. Apparently “unwinnable” isn’t a real word. That’s okay. I’m using it.
3. Demands: A slave, once collared, shouldn’t make demands of any kind. That’s like my computer demanding that I turn it on every single day even when I don’t use it. It’s silly and I’d laugh at it while it tried to figure out how to turn itself on.
4. Temper Tantrums: They’re not cute in two year olds and they’re definitely not cute in adult slaves.
5. Rampant Sarcasm and Other Disrespectful Behavior: Nothing says “I don’t care what you think so fuck you very much, Master.” like sarcasm and disrespect.
6. Threats: Making threats of any nature only escalates the situation. It puts him on the defensive. A defensive master, in my experience, is hard to bring over to your side. Or even part way over to your side, if you’re only looking for a compromise.
7. Name Calling: It’s disrespectful and childish.
8. Slinging Insults: Same.
9. Leaving, Requesting Release or Breaking Up: I understand the disinterest in being in a relationship that makes you unhappy. Believe me, I do. And if it’s an unsolvable problem, by all means request release. But an unwanted house guest (again, only using it because it spurred this post), a drug/alcohol problem in early stages, petty arguments… these are all resolvable with a little time and effort.

Things TO do:  Read more…

Yesterday, I fucked up. Bad.

Master and I are both pretty stressed right now. The move killed our finances and we’re seriously strapped for cash. We’re both doing what we can (which, for me, is proving to be not much unfortunately) to make some extra dough and trying not to snap each other’s heads off due to the stress we’re under.

Yesterday, I lost control of my “strong slave” image and broke down. Naturally, I couldn’t do it respectfully. I had to be sarcastic and throw a temper tantrum. I swear I’m a two year old trapped in a woman’s body. Which would be pretty hot if we were into age play but… we’re not. So it’s not.

Ugh… I was still too wet from my shower to put clothes on. My pants are sticking to my legs :/

We… Well, I argued for a while. Tried to excuse my behavior away. Blamed PMS and withdrawals and cabin fever and everything I could think of to make it not my fault. But it is my fault. No matter which way you slice it. There are better ways of handling things. Respectful ways of telling Him how I’m feeling. And I ignored all of them.

After a while of listening to me make excuses for myself, He stormed over to me (“What about this? Do you remember this? Have you had enough training to know this?”), grabbed my hair and shoved me to my knees pressing my face into the carpet. I knelt there like that for a while holding my breath to keep from sobbing. My body shook and my fists clenched. And I bawled.

I realized my mistake, though. I stopped making excuses. And I started apologizing.

It was nice to have Him firmly planted in “Master Mode”. To see His demeanor change when He realized there was one way and one way only to handle me at that point. There was no room for kid gloves. Things would have spiraled further out of control. Letting me continue down the path I was going without rebuking me for my actions was out of the question. The only way out was for Him to take control and give me a hard push (literally and figuratively) to where I belong.

Sometimes being a slave pisses me off. I won’t lie. It infuriates me, at times, to not be able to do what I want, when I want. To have to have permission and accept when He isn’t interested in giving me what I want.

But nights like last night? Nights like last night I realize how much I need this. Nights like last night I realize just how comfortable it is to be owned. Even when things aren’t going my way.

Now if only I could get the Aries in me to stop banging her head against the wall when things aren’t going her way I’d be set. How does one change behaviors they’ve had all their life? I guess I’m going to find out. Soon.

So I’ve been jabbering on FetLife a LOT lately. I run out of things to do and just… babble. Annnnd I might be pissing people off but I’m at that stage in my life where I just don’t care. I go through phases. One minute I’m praying to be part of the cool kids club and the next I realize the cool kids are missing their brains. And then I don’t care that their brains have fallen out. I just want to be as cool as them!

Ah adolescence. Who’da thunk it would stretch almost to thirty. If I listen to the hours of gibberish my ATC counselors used to spew at me I’d believe it’s all the drugs stunting my emotional growth to that of a twelve year old (when I started doing prescription and street drugs). Or maybe nine, when I started smoking cigarettes. I like to think it’s much deeper than that. Being a teenager was fun, damn it!

We have a future <a href=”http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kink_Aware_Professionals”>KAP</a> living beneath us and she’s cool as hell. And smart! It’s so rare to find an intelligent female in our neck of the woods. Most of them are more interested in having babies and staying on welfare. And I know that’s a horrible stereotype but if I was interested in backing myself up (which I am… a little) I’d tell you how many of the females I’ve met who’ve flat out told me they did their best to get fired from their jobs because quitting would screw up their section 8 or food stamps. It’s sad, really, that working cramps their style . But it’s home and I love it here. Minus the snow… which, remarkably, we’ve had very little of yet. Knock on wood. Lots and hard.

The sirens are becoming lullabies and the other night I got to listen to a drunken priest talk about his all forgiving God and a daughter that hates him. I sort of felt sorry for him when the women outside smoking with him ridiculed him for falling. But it was all fun and games again when he told them he’d done nothing God wouldn’t forgive him for. He’s managed to avoid the seven deadly sins. So far.

I hope I’m right and there is no hell. Because if there is, when I get there I’ll be met with a red carpet and Satan carrying his worst torture devices. Boy do I have a surprise for him! And I’ll be bootlegging ice water right under his nose.

He’ll probably sentence me to another lifetime on Earth for making fun of him.  Read more…

Wow… I’ve been quiet, eh?

Things are settling down here. I just don’t have much to talk about. Why is that? I have no idea.

We’ve been doing a lot of fucking, a lot of fighting, a lot of talking, a lot of making up… The fighting is mostly my fault. I can’t seem to shut my mouth and my temper is seriously out of control. I’m blaming it on my laundry list of psychoses that I seem to be able to control better when I have more to focus my attention on (i.e. work). I guess we’ll see as soon as we’re able to get the things we need to start putting together prototypes for our store.

Something I’ve learned over the past few weeks and cannot stress enough is how important honesty is. I’m not talking about being forthcoming when you’ve broken a rule and your dominant doesn’t know, although that, too, is important. I’m talking about being honest about your opinions, thoughts, feelings… all the things that most of our dominants ask us for and some of us, like me, aren’t always willing to give.

I think I’ve actually discussed this before (in one of my “coming home” posts at least) but I can’t stress it enough so I’m going to talk about it again.

I have a really bad habit of telling Master what I think He wants to hear. Regardless of my true feelings. There are two reasons for this.

The first is that I believed that, because I’m a slave, my opinions should always match His and when they don’t, instead of telling Him how I feel, I should just bow to His will and be done with it. But the truth of the matter is, in some cases that causes more harm than good. Especially in a relationship that is based on more than just M/s.

Our relationship, being both master/slave and husband/wife, is also based on love. Which means that, while He won’t always care what my thoughts, feelings and opinions are, He still likes to know them. Even if they go against His own. Which leads us to the second reason.

More often than not, it’s just easier to tell Him what I think He wants to hear than cause a conflict by telling Him what I really think. In the short term, anyway. Until down the road we realize I’ve been hiding my true feelings and there are things I have huge problems with. Generally speaking, the problems would have been simple to solve in the beginning. A conversation about why I didn’t like the idea or whatever and us working through it would have done wonders for my sanity.

And in those instances there are two ways to handle things. We can talk about it and work out a way for Him to get what He wants while somehow making me comfortable and without traumatizing me. Or we talk about it and He realizes there is no way around my bad feelings surrounding the situation. That leaves Him with two more choices. Push, get what He wants and clean up the pieces afterward or back off and have a happy, secure slave with only minor mental issues *grin*

But the underlying factor is the situation cannot be handled appropriately if He doesn’t know I have a problem with it.

I’m getting better. Matter of fact, one could say I have diarrhea of the mouth. I haven’t stopped telling Him how I feel about things. Whether He asks me or not.