Master has this thing about making me perform at the most inopportune times. Take last night for example. After a few drinks at a pub with a couple of friends, we came back here for fruit and coffee and ended up in a friendly discussion/argument about collaring ceremonies. Part-way through the discussion, where I was actually being eloquent and asking pertinent questions for once, Master told me to strip and kneel on the seagrass mat (the ecological slavegirl’s equivalent to raw rice) with my head to the floor.
They were kink friends so it wasn’t like they hadn’t seen me naked before or anything, but do you know how hard it is to ask pertinent, probing questions when you’re naked on the floor with a cherry shoved into your ass hole??
If truth be known, I was a little annoyed because I LURV getting into discussions with people in which the only defense for their opinion is, “Because I think so!!” and I especially LURV grilling dominants about their lofty ideas. Trying to get into an argument/discussion with Master is just no fun because he will, no matter how hard I twist, poke or prod, win, hands down, every single time. And if, by some remote chance, it looks like he is going to lose the argument/discussion he can always pull the, “Who wears the shiny thing?” card and that’s the end of that.
I was miffed that I had access to some prime dominant meat that I was going to revel in grilling over a slow flame, but one order by my domly one and there I was kneeling, naked, with all my ability to form a cohesive argument having gone straight out the window. I hate that.
I don’t know what does it. I wouldn’t call it ‘sub space’ or even a ‘happy place’, but I find that sometimes when I’m doing something ‘slavey’ I get all docile or something and suddenly I can’t follow the thread of a conversation or give a proper answer. That’s generally what happens if I have to count strokes too. I will lose the ability to count or add or even work out what’s going on. I wouldn’t say I’m floaty or anything, it’s just like I get a sudden case of the stupids. It’s bizarre and annoying at the same time.
Along with not being able to get my brain into cognitive gear, part of me was also cringing while I was naked on the floor because, really, who wants to see me naked for the fifty-millionth time or hear me say the same old, same old mantra of “I’m your slave, I have no rights or choices, I must be obedient.” I could *feel* them checking their watches, stifling yawns and wondering what a polite way would be for them to exit the house quickly.
I know Master delights in getting me to do stuff like that, but I wonder if he realises that it’s of no interest to anyone but him?? Lol. They’re our friends. We go to play parties together. They know our relationship and who and what we are. Do they need to be hit over the head with it a million times???
And I don’t know. I think getting up all close and personal with someone’s A hole under the harsh and unforgiving fluorescent light while you’re trying to have a chat over coffee may not be the most appetising thing for all people. I think there’s a time and place for all things and just because they are like-minded, doesn’t mean they need a side of my pussy with their latte.
On a side note, the discussion we were having about collaring ceremonies was quite interesting. He wanted one, she didn’t. She wants his collar, he won’t give it without the ceremony. So where do you go with that? Hello, impasse!
It was funny because the domly ones were of the opinion that if she wanted his collar, she would have to jump through the hoops no matter what. The subbly ones were of the opinion that the ceremony has no ‘intrinsic meaning’ so why bother. Of course, if it was going to be a ceremony with some flowery poetry, meaningless vows and eating food with a group of people that’s not an issue, but when the ‘ceremony’ he wants is something that could be detrimental to her health or emotionally damaging, why bother?
It was actually one of those fetlife type of arguments that could just go around and around for hours, so of course no understanding was reached or will probably ever be 100% reached. But I did want to grill him about it, if for no other reason than I recently found out his nickname for me is ‘big nose’ and for that he deserves to feel the full force of my wrath.
Perhaps next time we meet I’ll have a chance to continue my grilling. A time when I’ve got all my clothes on, I’m minus one cherry up my ass and my fires are stoked to sear to perfection.