You know how some people can get under your skin and gnaw at you? Just an annoying little inconvenience, but still enough to piss you off? Well, I haz me one of those.
This particular person has said a few things to me that, although reasonably innocent individually, when taken as a group have seriously rubbed me up the wrong way. Last night it all kind of culminated into a big seething mass with an off-hand comment and I was just about ready to slap the guy down.
Master had decided to give me my birthday caning over the table after dinner. He did his usually ‘drum-beat’ caning that’s not particularly hard, but gives me a warm bottie and serves his purpose, to which the person in question commented:
“If that’s your “caning”, you don’t want to be caned by me.”
He then proceeded to show us exactly how it should be done on his girl.
It just made me irrationally angry. Granted I’m plaguing at the moment and breathing makes me irrationally angry, but his tone and the implied message that I was a wuss really bothered me.
This incident is a prime example of the nasty thing called ‘competition’ rearing its ugly head in bdsm. There definitely does seem to be a thing about who can shock the most or who endures the most. I gave up long ago trying to compete in the ‘who can take the most’ competition, but Master and I still have a running joke about one-upmanship where a group of subbly ones are discussing how harsh and cruel their masters are:
“I sleep in a dog cage every night.”
“You get to sleep in a dog cage? Extravagant! I sleep in a hamster cage!”
“You get to sleep in a shoe-box? Extravagant! I sleep in a shoe-box!”
“You get to sleep in a shoe-box? Extravagant! I sleep in a match-box!”
“You get to sleep in a match-box? Extravagant! I sleep on a thumb-tack!”
We just keep on saying stupider and stupider stuff until we run out of small things to say. I don’t think we’ve ever gotten down to a quark, but I’m sure we’ll get there one day.
It was a strange kind of night. Master had a bee up his bum the entire time and kept picking at little things which made me respond in kind and we ended up shouting at each other and in a semi-fight over stupid stuff like whether I’d opened a pull-top can with the tip of a knife. I can best describe him as in a “testy mood” and I didn’t know why seeing that he had been fine all day and that was even before the comment-fest began.
So Master was testy, I was irrationally angry and it was just uncomfortable all-round. Perhaps it’s the ridiculous heat of late that is wearing down on everyone, but I know I definitely need some time to decompress after that night.
EDIT: Master has just shouted at me some more because he wasn’t ‘testy’ he was “angry”. Apparently, opening a pull-top can with a knife IS the worst thing I could possibly do and me talking to our guests while I serve dinner, thereby extending the time it takes to get the food on the table, is the SECOND worst thing I could do.