I started my Sunday with a couple of slaps across the face, some arm twisting, pinching, grappling and quite a few tears. Just a typical Sunday morning in the house of a non-compliant slave…lol.
Now I don’t know about you, but when I’m told, ‘Open your mouth’ so that the man can do a ‘here-comes-the-aeroplane!’ with several of his fingers that have just been up my cunt and are covered with stuff I’d prefer not to think about, I’m not exactly leaping off the bed to comply. I may be leaping off the bed to get as far away as possible, but that seems to get me slapped around and ultimately results in physical struggles that I’m never going to win. After all, the man can fart me into oblivion without even trying, so imagine what he can do with other parts of his body.
Apparently the story is now that I still have to be obedient – whether I enjoy being obedient or not doesn’t get factored in. So even though I’m kind of in slave limbo at the moment, I’m still expected to do what he says. Which sucks in a big way because now I’m even less motivated to do things I don’t want to do. Before I had a bit of the ‘being forced’ thrill mixed with some humiliation to help get me through, but now I’ve got nada to work with.
It’s tough. If I didn’t click with him in other ways, damn I’d seriously be scraping the bottom of the barrel. But what I’m wondering now is whether being made to do stuff will actually make me resent him and whether it will start to chip away at our relationship. Can we exist as just man and woman instead of Master & slave?
He always said that he’d never have me as anything but a slave but I wonder exactly how true that statement was…
I also wonder what his definition of ‘having me as a slave’ is. Could I be a slave in nothing but name only and would he be happy with that? Or would I actually need to do some ‘slavey’ stuff in order to keep the title of ‘his slave’.
There’s also that problem of the shiny thing and whether I can bring myself to keep wearing it. That feeling of non-entitlement is kind of creeping around on the fringes of my consciousness….But then again, it’s only a symbol, right? It doesn’t actually mean anything. Maybe I can just start thinking of myself as a goth and buy some black lipstick to match. I’m sure that will go down fabulously at work.
One thing I do know is that my non-compliance will probably start to get on his nerves very quickly. For all he talks about me being his slave regardless, I genuinely think he wants me to be enjoying stuff. While he says my tears ‘turn him on’, I think there’s a big difference between beating someone to tears and getting horny because of it, and someone getting all blubbery because they don’t know what they are anymore and finding that it doesn’t bring a stiff breeze to your sails.
Emotionally I feel like I’m pmsing, but it’s a bit early. Or maybe I’ve just moved into the realms of all-month-long pmsing and this is how I’ll be all the time from now on until I get shit sorted.