taken by SliceofNYC, edited by Rayne

As if the please would somehow soften the blow of my disrespect and get me out of trouble.  Ha!

Why… Yes! Yes, I am the queen of putting my foot in my mouth.  I mean, I am, after all, a woman, so I’ve gotta be queen of something, right? And since it’ll never be queen of this household, or queen of the world, it might as well be “Her Highness Metatarsals dans Bouche”.

~sighs~

What’s funny is, until I said that, Master was content to argue with me.  Well, I guess content isn’t the correct word.  He had already warned me a time or two that I wasn’t just toeing the line.  I’d leaped a mile out of bounds, and was still running, and He was right behind me gnashing at my heels.

I sort of ignored the finality in His voice when He said, and I’m paraphrasing at best, “I’ve had it.  I am not putting up with your disrespectful bullshit anymore.  Button it up, or you’re gonna be sorry.”

I made a half-assed attempt at reining it in, but when He said something I didn’t agree with, I started spitting my words at Him and clenching my fists.  I did better than I usually do, in that I actually listened to what He had to say, but I didn’t do better than the last time.  The last time, the second He hinted at me being out of line, I shut up.  This time, I stopped talking for a second, but then was right back at Him, lunging at the end of my chain, snarling and growling at Him.  Figuratively, of course.

So when I tried to explain something to Him, and He cut me off again (The reason this bothers me – not that it matters – is because it completely shatters my train of thought.  Every time.  I lose everything I was about to say and can’t even make my point to see if He thinks it’s valid.  And that’s when things stop making sense.  You know… I’m not sure I realized that fully until last night.  Who says no good comes of arguing?), I screamed at Him, “Will you just shut the fuck up and listen to me?” and when I saw the look on His face and realized what had just come out of my mouth, I tripped all over myself to say, “PLEASE??!?” all frantic like.

Time stood still for a moment.  And I honestly thought I was seconds from being knocked through the couch, and then the wall behind it.  But He just said, plainly and firmly, “No.”

And because I can’t just quit while I’m ahead, I replied with a defeated, “Fine.” as if I had any right to be upset with His answer.  As if He wasn’t well within His right, even if I weren’t a slave.  Even if we were equals, He’d be perfectly justified in refusing to listen to me when I’m acting the way I was acting last night.

We’d just returned home, so I was still fully clothed, and He ordered me naked and cuffed.  He gagged me and made me kneel in the middle of the living room while He asked me questions about the argument, the things He expects of me, and the things we agree qualify me as a slave to be sure we were on the same page (I hear ya.  “Who cares if you’re on the same page? His word is law.”  But Master likes to make sure I know what His word is.  And asking me these questions gives Him better insight into where my mindset is and what He needs to be working on.).  He told me for every time I got out of position, I would get twenty lashes with the cane, and He didn’t really care if I built up five-hundred.  And He began asking me yes or no questions, getting a feel for where we stood. 

I refused to answer a couple because I felt there were reasons for my behavior.  I wasn’t being intentionally obstinate or disrespectful, I just didn’t want to be condemned without a fair trial.  Not that, as a slave, I have the right to a fair trial.  But I like to pretend I do.

Master eventually let me take the gag out and explain myself.  He believes in a fair trial, too.  Sometimes.

I’ve got new rules, and He reinforced some old ones.

I’m no longer allowed to look into His eyes.  I can’t even begin to describe how difficult this is for me.  Not because it makes me feel bad, or anything like that.  Just because I love to look at Him.  He’s so beautiful.

(I just got the Calla Lily in the mail from California Exotics.  It looks neat!)

He explained two single-word commands to me and told me that I’m to start keeping an ear out for them.

“Freeze” means I’m to, basically, stand at attention.  No matter where I am, I stop talking, look straight ahead and put my arms by my sides, unless I’m carrying something.  Funny that He felt the need to clarify that.  That was probably more for His own good then mine, though.

And “heel” means I’m to go to my hands and knees on His right side.  Again, no matter where we are or what we’re doing.  He didn’t clarify anything with that one.  But knowing Him, He will as He needs to.

I’m back to not being allowed on Twitter or IM until my morning stuff is done.  Thing is, I was never given permission to stop, I just assumed that since I was getting better at keeping caught up, I could.  And then I started slacking again.

I’ve been ordered to give up a couple responsibilities in order to keep the ones I really want.  He’s letting me choose, but I have no doubt that will change if the ones I pick don’t really free up any of my time.

And He’s not playing with this “losing privileges if I can’t behave” thing.  He says if I don’t straighten up, He’s going to start taking things away from me.

I guess the thing that stings the most is most of this is shit I know.  Shit I should have been doing right along.  Shit I knew He’d eventually call me on if I didn’t buck up and get it right.  And that’s just fucked up on so many levels.

Why do I do that? I know what He expects from me, for the most part.  Generally speaking, the only exception is when something changes.  But the moment He gives me an inch, even unintentionally, I take ten miles.  What’s with that?

<3
~pig whore