Word on the street is that Master’s an asshole.

He certainly can be an asshole when He’s so inclined.  I won’t pretend He can’t.  But if I’m to be honest, I must admit that the sheer extent of my cunttery far surpasses any of the assholeish things He does.  By a long shot.  Everyone has bad days.

Usually, I wouldn’t care.  He certainly doesn’t care.  He laughs about it every time I bring it up.

But it bothers me.  Because it seems people have been walking away from our blog, and the things I tweet about, with the wrong impression of Him, our relationship and how He treats me.

I don’t know who said the things I heard.  I don’t really care who said them.  I pity them for not yet learning the life lesson, “Never judge a book by its cover.”

How He treats me, His willing, adoring slave, has nothing to do with who He is as a person.

When I expressed my interest in this lifestyle to Him, He sent me on one serious expedition for any and all information I could find on the subject.  On the internet, and in bookstores, and in libraries.  He bought and downloaded free versions of educational books, BDSM erotica  and an interesting mix of light and extreme BDSM porn.

He introduced me to women who were owned by married men and were kept expressly as backdoor girls.  Their owners only call them or visit them to use and abuse them and then throw them to the side like so much garbage until the next time.  The next time that could be weeks or months (or, in one case, years) away.

These women never heard a kind word from their owners.  Their conversations consisted strictly of the most depraved sexual acts their owners’ sadistic minds could come up with.  And I was intrigued.

Then, after showing me the worst of the worst, He introduced me to women who were cherished by their owners.  Who spent every day being doted on just as much as they doted on their owners.  Who laughed and loved and played and were always exalted to the highest place in their owners’ lives.  And I was nauseated.

Through a lot of trial and error, we’ve found that it works best for us somewhere in between.  Too much of either, and one of us is left feeling lost or unwanted.  Read more…