First things first… The power company gave me an extension.  After days of telling me there was nothing they could do, and basically shrugging their shoulders when I explained to them all the reasons why shutting my power off would be just as bad for them as it would be for us (M works from home, so He’d lose His job.  Him losing His job would cut our ties with NY, and we could move somewhere not covered by our current electric company, which would give me the ability to pay it at my leisure, or not at all if we decide to rent for the rest of our lives.  M wants to eventually buy a house, though, so we’d end up paying… Just not as quickly as if we are still on their grid.), and making sure to end every call with, “You need to figure this out, or we’re shutting you off.”, I got someone on the phone willing to work a loophole in their system.  We now have the time we need to pay the bill, and we’re able to pay the amount we owe this month and not the ginormous sum they wanted us to pay.

I reiterate my previous statement.  Utility companies are terrorists.

The cable might get shut off tomorrow.  But that bill’s tiny, and I can pay it and get it turned back on on Monday.  And M could use a weekend without work, so I’m really not sweating it.  He is, though.  Cause He does have work to do this weekend.  So we’re probably going to spend Saturday and Sunday in the office.

Master got kind of irritated, the other day, when I claimed blame, citing His willingness to do what I think is right when the situation is dire.  I think, at first, He misunderstood me and thought I was saying that I could manipulate Him to my will at any time.  I said, “This is my fault.  If I’d only pushed you, we’d be fine.”  without clarifying.  But once I explained that I meant He folds in times when He should (like when there’s a bill to pay that could potentially make or break us), and not times when He should remain firm, He was less irritated.

And ya know, if you talk to some of the M/s elite, folding at all is considered “doing it wrong” and “allowing the submissive control”.  But from where I sit, that’s just retarded.

I mean, say M and I are hiking through the woods.  Say it’s a trail system I’ve hiked a lot, but M’s only been there once and down one trail.  Maybe there’s been a storm, and I know which portions of the trail system are usually destroyed by bad weather.  But M has a specific place He wants to go and only knows the direction I took Him.

Should I tell Him about the possible impasses? Absolutely! Should we go the way we went last because that’s the way M knows, even though I know there are some spots along the way that are probably impassable? Unless there’s a specific reason (like a patch of flowers He wants to photograph, or a marsh that usually has lots of birds perched on the tops of reeds), probably not.  Is that giving me control of things? No! It’s simply recognizing that I know the area better and saving ourselves time.  And from where I stand, there’s nothing wrong with that.

I can’t remember if I mentioned it or not, but I’m an official regular guest writer over at Submissive Guide, now.  My first official regular post went up today.  Lol.  It’s just an introduction.

And have y’all seen formspring.me? People can ask you questions there about whatever.  They don’t even have to sign in.  I’m on there if anyone’s got questions.  Or whatever.

Now that that’s out of the way…

The other day, Master walked over and grabbed me by the throat.  He put His lips close to my ear and asked, “What are you?”

“Slave” is no longer the correct answer.  “Property” doesn’t do it for Him either.  “Pig whore” is who and what I am in our dynamic.  And when I answered Him, He responded with “What are you good for?”

There are a billion answers to that.  There’s tons I’m good at.  But that’s not what He’s asking.  He’s asking, when it comes right down to it, what kind of treatment I deserve.  And, my eyes trained on the wall in front of me, I responded plainly, “Fucking and hurting.” with that half-embarrassed smile us girlies tend to get when we’re uncomfortable.  When the danger is crackling in the air.  Our hairs standing on end.

He ordered me into lingerie and leather and then to the floor beside His office chair.  And it was minutes before a tongue bath turned into a blow job.  Seconds before the blow job turned into me on the bed with my ass in the air and Him beating me.

I shot myself in the foot when I held still the other night.  He expects it all the time, now.  I almost didn’t get fucked because He managed to land a direct and solid blow to my clit and inner labia, and I shot clear across the bed.  I’m pretty sure, by the strength of the blow, even He wasn’t expecting it to land where it did.  And He granted me reprieve when I held still for the rest of the assault He committed against my thighs, pussy and ass.  Read more…

A while back, Kaya posted a question asking whether or not it can be considered submission if the owner always only makes the submissive do things he or she wants to do.  I might have already answered it.  I really don’t remember.

Over on her site, I said:

Well… If that’s the case, what happens when you run out of things you won’t do?

Cause, like, my limits are waning. Things I never would have done in a million years seven years ago, I’ve done recently without batting an eyelash.

So if you run out of things you won’t do – which, you know, could happen, maybe… or at least, I could run out of things within the realm of things *He’ll* do – do you cease being submissive?

I dunno, kiddo.

And then I started thinking about my batty friend and her post about the little orders her owner gives her to keep her in an active happy sub place.  Which then brought me to Kaya’s recent post about topping from the bottom.  And then it all got mixed up in my head and I started wondering if I top from the bottom.  Either because neither of us have noticed it or because Master allows it because He doesn’t mind so much.

And is it “topping from the bottom” if it’s not my fault? Like, if I made a suggestion and He liked the idea and decided to go with it? Or if I’m just rambling away about how I’d do it if it were me and my way was more logical (Yes, I realize how improbable that is.  Work with me!) so He went with it?  Read more…

This whole catching up financially thing is going to take longer than I’d hoped and it’s making me nervous.  We have things we need and we can’t buy them yet because M’s paycheck is still spent the second it touches His fingertips due to back bills and such.  Like, Him getting a raise was so totally supposed to magically put us in perfect financial shape and we were supposed to be able to buy whatever we wanted right the fuck now without any sort of catching up period, right? Right??!?

Why, yes! Yes, I am an impatient soandso.

But, seriously? While I am getting a little antsy, I’m really only kidding about thinking our finances would miraculously reverse themselves and the needs are mostly glorified wants.  Like, we have plenty of clothes that aren’t falling apart and at least fit us comfortably.  But they’re completely out of style and/or could use some taking in.  And we could definitely use more of them.  We’ve made do for a year.  We can make do for another month if we have to.  It’s just annoying.

Oops.  What I meant to say was: I’m so grateful M has a job in the current economy and we can pay our bills!

Ya know what? I am.  But I’m so sick of hearing it when I bitch about His job.  The money is not consolation enough for the bullshit He’s dealing with (Still!) or the fact that I still rarely see Him even when He’s home.

It’s like offering me a peanut as a consolation prize when the grand prize was an eight bedroom mansion in Maui complete with an olive green 2009 Mustang convertible and a navy blue Eddie Bauer Explorer (Can you tell I’m a Ford fan?), two jet skis, a pool, a hot tub, a jacuzzi bathtub, a ginormous kitchen and an all expense paid, three month cruise that takes you everywhere in the world while the team from Extreme Makeover: Home Edition deck out the house any way you want regardless of price.  And not even a fresh roasted peanut still in the shell.  A dried up, overcooked peanut that’s already been de-shelled and tastes like ass.

I feel like a yo-yo.

Every once in a while, something will fill me up with confidence.  And it’ll bubble up to the surface, the water tension barely restraining what’s inside.  The bubble will dance precariously amidst its cloud of bubbly friends as long as nothing disturbs the water.  But the second a frog leaps onto a nearby lily pad, the water tension loses its grip and the confidence floats off into the air.   Read more…