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Archive for May, 2012

If there’s one thing you should never forget about Master…

May 30th, 2012 2 comments

It’s that he’ll never pat you on the back for doing your job.

Last night, he wanted me to change the sheets, but he always brings it up when I’m falling asleep. So I made up some excuse about beer sweats and having to wash sheets, and he, being the awesome guy he is, pretended to fall for it and let me off the hook.

Tonight, totally on my own, I decided that while he was doing laundry, I’d change the sheets. As I was doing it, I was bragging on myself in my head. “LOOK, Master!” I gushed. “I changed the sheets just like I promised! How awesome am I?”

“Tut, tut.” that good-slave voice that sometimes makes me want to strangle myself so she’ll shut up (and others, makes me swell up with slavey pride. Slavey pride? What the fuck is that shit? I should be ashamed.) piped up. “Let him notice by himself and praise you! That’ll be even better than prompting him for praise. You’ll know he appreciates the precious.”

“But…” whined the first voice. “He won’t notice by himself.”

“Yes, he will.”

“Well, he for sure won’t praise me. He doesn’t believe in patting people on the back for doing what they’re supposed to do. If I went above and beyond…”

“How do you go above and beyond when making the bed?”

“Good question. I guess I don’t deserve praise.”

And almost ten years later, he’s still in my head. Fucker. MASTER fucker. >.>

<3

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Bullet in My Hand by Redlight King

May 25th, 2012 2 comments

Kaz at Northern Lights 5/21

I’ve got a fast life and
A slow cuttin’ knife
I’ve been drinkin’ at a poisoned well
No home and a bag of bones
And nothin’ else left to sell
I know why I’m in this hell
I just don’t wanna believe
Past that line you just can’t tell
But right now

There’s someone lookin’ out for me
I came out of the darkness
With a bullet in my hand
I got one more shot at livin’
I’m lucky that I can
Cause I got a little roughed up
Yeah I really got fucked up
I came out of the darkness
With a bullet in my hand

I got a cold stare, the wound’s still there
But there ain’t much left to bleed
A short fuse that I still use
I’m my own worst enemy
Stare at the faces I once knew lined up just to bury me
There’s a long black car that’s waitin’ to leave
But right now

There’s someone looking out for me
I came out of the darkness
With a bullet in my hand
I got one more shot at livin’
I’m lucky that I can
Cause I got a little roughed up
Yeah I really got fucked up
I came out of the darkness
With a bullet in my hand

Cause I got a little roughed up
With a bullet in my hand
Yeah I really got fucked up
With a bullet in my hand

Can you see the light?
Can you see the light?
Can you see the light?
I can see the light
I can see the light

There’s someone looking out for me
I came out of the darkness
With a bullet in my hand
I got one more shot at livin’
I’m lucky that I can
Cause I got a little roughed up
Yeah I really got fucked up
I came out of the darkness
With a bullet in my hand

Redlight King at Northern Lights 5/21

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“Oh, by the way? In case it wasn’t clear, you’re back in slave mode.”

May 10th, 2012 2 comments

It struck me when he said it, but I brushed it off within days. You see, when there’s not much control to speak of for months (maybe a year?), I begin to get too big for my britches.

“Well, if he’s not going to hold up his end of the bargain, then why. the fuck. should I?”

Which reason would you like first?

Because nowhere in our agreement does it say, “If Master’s feeling like letting out the leash, you’re allowed to be a brat to get your way.”

Because we’ve discussed it over, and over, and over, and I’ve commented on forum thread, after forum thread, after forum thread about how it doesn’t matter how I behave when things are going exactly how I think they should go. It matters how I behave when he’s sick, or tired, or too busy to be constantly in my face about my slavery, or just doesn’t want to, or whatever.  Read more…

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“HOLY CRAP!”

May 10th, 2012 2 comments

“What?”

“You don’t want to know. I’m in the bathroom! YOU DON’T ASK ‘What?’ WHEN SOMEONE SAYS ‘HOLY CRAP!’ IN THE BATHROOM!!!”

“Well, I thought maybe you looked in the toilet and angels were singing, or something.”

“Yeah, I pooped Baby Jesus out my butt.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s blasphemy.”

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