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SJP#207: Pushing Boundaries

July 25th, 2009

How do you react when your owner expects something of you that you are not prepared to give? Is that the way you want to respond, and is that the way your owner wants you to respond?

How I react to orders that I’m not comfortable with really depends on the order.  Sometimes I just roll my eyes and do it.  I know, even as I roll my eyes, that I really should get tossed in the corner for a bit when I’m finished doing whatever it was He told me to do.  But it’s an old reflex that I can’t seem to break.  And I figure it’s better than the other times.

The other times…

We hadn’t been together long the first time Master loaned my use to someone else.

The beginning of our relationship was all about pushing boundaries.  Both of us making asinine comments and mistakes and challenges and watching to see if the other would make it through the flaming hoop of death without getting their ass burned.  Me trying to prove that I was more than He could handle and Him trying to prove that I was full of shit.  That I was exactly what He was looking for.

We were together three or four months the first time He told me He wanted to give me to the guy next door.

At first it was a threat.  If you don’t stop being such a prude, I’m gonna send you to R and show you how much of a whore you are. Or some such.  It wasn’t always used in a sexual capacity.  Sometimes, I’d be threatened with being told to offer myself to this guy for forgetting to do the dishes.  It was a boundary and He wanted to push it.  He doesn’t much care for being boxed in.

You know…  This guy was an online Gorean master.  I often find myself wondering if he’s lurking on this website (or one of the other places I post) and cursing me every time I talk about him.  Or like…  Planning my demise or something.  If I didn’t already know from his reaction and how he bragged about having me, I wouldn’t think I was anything more than a blip on the radar.  Maybe I wasn’t.  Maybe he brags about having anyone.

But it’s the truth, man.  You were pretty gross.  If you don’t like that about yourself, then perhaps you should clean yourself up.  As much as I hate to say it hate to sound like a cunt…  Hmm.  Anyway.  I should have reported your ass for those dogs long before the landlord finally got sick of it and told you to get rid of them.  But that’s neither here nor there.  It caught up to you eventually.  I just feel terrible about the dogs.

At first, when Master said He was sending me next door, I would immediately shut up and do whatever it was He wanted me to do.  Not another peep was heard until it was finished.  And then, I would usually inundate Him with questions.  “You would really give me to him?” and “Why would you do that to me?” and “But what if he’s sick? He says he used to be big time before the accident.  He might have something.”

But what really scared me was the fact that I knew I’d fuck anything – and fuck well! – and want to get off.  I had.  I spent almost a year as a prostitute when I was eighteen.  Not a single customer went away disappointed and all of them came back for more.  I was afraid that, if I came back from R’s apartment begging to get off, Master would hate me.  That it would be too much for Him.

That’s some scary shit, dude.  And eventually, it was too scary for me.  He’d mention giving me to R and I’d bug. the fuck. out.  I’d scream and cry and beg and plead and kick and scream and…  I’m sure this guy knew I’d be over there – and that I didn’t want to go over there – long before I finally gave in.  The walls weren’t exactly thick and we shared a heating duct.  I am a horrible person.  Heh.

And, you know, now that I’m thinking about it, I guess I didn’t trust Him, huh? Didn’t trust Him to know Himself well enough to know whether or not something like that could or would destroy our relationship.  And I catch myself doing it now, too.  Saying things like, “I’m not sure sharing me would be a good idea, right now.  I don’t know if you can handle it.”

Since when did I become His keeper? When did it become my place to decide what He can and cannot handle? Or to decide whether or not He should take that step, for that matter.

And that’s where I get stuck.

We are not just master and slave.  We are husband and wife.  Both facets of our relationship are very important to us.  And in my mind, at least one of those roles, if not both, dictates that I be concerned about Him and His well-being.

I cannot, do not want to, will not separate the two.  We’ve tried but it’s really not as easy as we thought.  Sure, there are going to be times in our lives when one or the other has to take priority.  That’s the way the cookie crumbles.  But the two are so intertwined that, if we continue to try to put one or the other first on a regular basis, I think we will end up hurting ourselves.

So where do I draw the line? When does it cease being okay to care about how something affects Him? When do I need to take a step back and say, “Well, I think it’s gonna hurt Him, but He wants it.  It’s His decision.”? And how do I ensure myself that He knows what He’s doing without undermining His authority?

I need to just trust Him.  But I’m afraid.  I’m so used to being too much for people.  To being thrown away.  Logic would dictate that if He was going to get sick of me and take off He would have done it already.  I mean… I push pretty fucking hard.

I just love Him so fucking much.  And I love being with Him.  And nothing makes me happier than pleasing Him.  Just as nothing makes me sadder than hurting Him.

Tangent, much? Oy.  Anyway.  That’s me today.

prompt found at SubmissiveGuide

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  1. July 26th, 2009 at 16:41 | #1


    I so get this, I really do. The desire to protect those we care about is an integral part of our make up as people. I’ve struggled with this overly protective instinct for years now. If you ever figure out how to control it, let me know, will you?


  2. July 27th, 2009 at 10:23 | #2

    @dweaver999 I will totally let you know if I figure it out. Lol.

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