How often you have a scene and what do you usually do? You mentioned in a
past post you life anal. Do you do it much? What is your sex life like?
Do you go down on each other, use strapons?
For us, sex function as a glue that keeps our relationship working. We need to connect that way, to reinforce our love and our dynamic. It's very much about her owning me, about me belonging to her, and about us being together. Unfortunately life has a nasty tendency to get in the way of our sex life. I tend to blame it all on us being parents, but the fact is that before the kid came along we had a lot of other stuff getting in the way. So not as often as we'd like tends to be the constant answer. But I know that if it's been a week and we haven't had sex and/or a S/M-scene, I start to feel crappy and get obnoxious. So somewhere between a couple of times a week and every forthnight, depending on health and stress levels mostly.
I'm all for fucking the stress away but Mistress needs to decompress and feel comfortable with herself and her home and her world before her libido gets going, and she's the one who gets to say when.
We don't have vanilla sex, I don't think we could even if we for some reason would want to. It doesn't necessarily involve toys or pain or orders, but she's always in charge. I'm receptive and present and willing and communicating, but she's the one deciding what we're going to do. I don't touch her without permission (it doesn't have to be verbal though) or change position or things like that. It's very much her fucking me, not the other way around.
She uses a strap on or her hands, and I'm often encouraged to use my hands too. We're not into oral sex, either of us, so we don't do that. When it's more scene-like, with more sadism and toys and perhaps planned a little in advanced it's usually very calm and slow and serene. She has trained me to lie perfectly still, and she's very methodic and focused. She never tells me in advance what she's going to do, and I'm pretty sure she makes it up as she goes along, but it feels almost ritualistic, very ordered, very centered.
I like anal, very much, but Mistress seem to be rather indifferent to it. If she just want to fuck me my pussy is more convenient, and that's usually what she uses. I always want more anal sex (like I always want more orgasms, and fucking, and beating, and hugging and attention and just generally more of everything because I'm a glutton) but it's not something I obsesse about. She fucks me that way sometimes and when she do I love it. That's about it.
Showing posts with label service. Show all posts
Showing posts with label service. Show all posts
Mar 10, 2014
Feb 11, 2013
Jan 30, 2013
Service?
The other night, Mistress granted me the privilege of going to a workshop about service. It really was a privilege, since she let me go away rather late in the evening while she stayed at home working and being responsible adult at home while the kid was sleeping. Actually, I had to ditch her before the kid was sleeping, leaving her to do the whole bedtime ritual all by herself, while I gallivanted away in the car.
I was actually a bit nervous, since I had to drive 60 miles to get there and more importantly home again late at night. I recruited my friend I. and sneakily convinced her that even though it was very good and noble of her to stay at home studying for exams, it was a much better idea to go to BDSM-workshops with me.
And it really was (at least for me, but then again, I didn't have any exam-studying-plans). I'm never really been comfortable with the concept of "service", which is one reason I wanted to go, and I actually did come home with a few thoughts in my head that I didn't have before. I think I broadened the concept a lot.
When I've read others referring to service, I've always read it in the context of doing things above and beyond the usual. It's about keeping an extra eye on things, about doing things extra good, or in a special way. The "clean a toilet with a toothbrush"-example did occur yesterday too.
And... no. There's simply no room for that in our life. We're both working full tilt as it is, there's nothing more to give. I could "service" her right now of course, I'm sitting her writing a blog while she's paying bills, and I could be up vacuuming instead. Or I don't know... sort her sock drawer?
But I don't do that. Because there's no end to it. There's no point where the work ends. There's no point where I can sit down and relax and say that "yeah, now I've done enough! Now she'll be pleased with me!". She's pleased with me a lot of times for all kinds of reasons. But if I tried to outwork the workload and do above and beyond what she could wish for, I would break.
In fact, I did break. I broke down completely, that was kind of the deal with last year. I tried my absolute hardest to be the best mom, the best wife, the best student, and I didn't give my self any slack and I was constantly on my own case about not being good enough, and I tried and tried and tried, and the more I tried and the more I failed and the more I berated myself the more desperate I became and the less resources I had left to do anything with. And I didn't stop doing it that way until I was in so bad a shape that I couldn't lift a fork and eat lunch because I couldn't decide how to cut a sausage.
But the workshop yesterday gave me more faith in the belief that I do service Mistress. I do. Just not in the more common houseworky sort of way.
I'm devoted to her. I'm absolutely loyal to her. I'm completely invested in our relationship. She's the top of my priorities, if I have any alternative I always choose the one I think that she'd prefer. She's the centre of my life. I always want to be of service to her.
Sometimes she uses me in an outright manner, she exercises her authority and tells me to do things. I love that, that's easy. I love getting her tea or her slippers or go get the laundry. Sometimes my appallingly bad working memory fails me and I have to do a few false starts before I get it right, but that doesn't mean I don't want to do it. She doesn't do this all that often, honestly I think it doesn't occur to her mostly, but when she does I like it.
But there's also more subtle ways that I relate to her that might be called service, in a very broad definition of the term. I service her, one could say, by letting her control me. By gracefully and without a fuss constantly report my whereabouts and plans and actions and travels to her, so that she'll always know where to find me. By never making definite plans with anyone without checking in with her first. By presenting things to her in a manner that makes it clear that the decision is up to her, that I'm merely presenting alternatives.
By now, all those things are second nature to me - but seeing them in the light of "service" made me feel a little better about myself. After all, I could act in other ways. Those other ways would have consequences, bad once, but that doesn't mean I can't give myself credit for making wise decisions and behaving well.
An even more convoluted way of looking at it is the things I don't do, and where the refraining in itself can be considered service, as sorts. I try very hard not to lash out at her when I'm upset. Sometimes I fail, but nowadays I often succeed. Not because she'll punish me otherwise, but because I hurt and upset her, and I contribute much more to our relationship if I keep calm and, in all honesty, shut up.
I also refrain from second guessing her, barging in when she gives signs of insecurity and doubt, or trying to "help out" if I think she can't handle something. Again, not always, but most of the time, I succeed. Oddly enough, a lot of my "service" consists of not doing things. First, do no harm.
---
And then I had to go to bed. This continues therefore the day after.
Today, I had very clear orders to fix a few errands at the pharmacy and the bank, leave and pick up little S, and have lunch, and nothing else. When I asked, she agreed to me studying for no more than an hour. And when she left in the morning, she agreed in letting me clear the dishes after breakfast, since she was in a hurry. So today, I'm obeying her and servicing her by reading a new Kelley Armstrong-novel on the iPad, and drinking tea in front of the telly. The doing as she tells me to part is obedience. The doing it with grace and without fuss is service. In a way.
I was actually a bit nervous, since I had to drive 60 miles to get there and more importantly home again late at night. I recruited my friend I. and sneakily convinced her that even though it was very good and noble of her to stay at home studying for exams, it was a much better idea to go to BDSM-workshops with me.
And it really was (at least for me, but then again, I didn't have any exam-studying-plans). I'm never really been comfortable with the concept of "service", which is one reason I wanted to go, and I actually did come home with a few thoughts in my head that I didn't have before. I think I broadened the concept a lot.
When I've read others referring to service, I've always read it in the context of doing things above and beyond the usual. It's about keeping an extra eye on things, about doing things extra good, or in a special way. The "clean a toilet with a toothbrush"-example did occur yesterday too.
And... no. There's simply no room for that in our life. We're both working full tilt as it is, there's nothing more to give. I could "service" her right now of course, I'm sitting her writing a blog while she's paying bills, and I could be up vacuuming instead. Or I don't know... sort her sock drawer?
But I don't do that. Because there's no end to it. There's no point where the work ends. There's no point where I can sit down and relax and say that "yeah, now I've done enough! Now she'll be pleased with me!". She's pleased with me a lot of times for all kinds of reasons. But if I tried to outwork the workload and do above and beyond what she could wish for, I would break.
In fact, I did break. I broke down completely, that was kind of the deal with last year. I tried my absolute hardest to be the best mom, the best wife, the best student, and I didn't give my self any slack and I was constantly on my own case about not being good enough, and I tried and tried and tried, and the more I tried and the more I failed and the more I berated myself the more desperate I became and the less resources I had left to do anything with. And I didn't stop doing it that way until I was in so bad a shape that I couldn't lift a fork and eat lunch because I couldn't decide how to cut a sausage.
But the workshop yesterday gave me more faith in the belief that I do service Mistress. I do. Just not in the more common houseworky sort of way.
I'm devoted to her. I'm absolutely loyal to her. I'm completely invested in our relationship. She's the top of my priorities, if I have any alternative I always choose the one I think that she'd prefer. She's the centre of my life. I always want to be of service to her.
Sometimes she uses me in an outright manner, she exercises her authority and tells me to do things. I love that, that's easy. I love getting her tea or her slippers or go get the laundry. Sometimes my appallingly bad working memory fails me and I have to do a few false starts before I get it right, but that doesn't mean I don't want to do it. She doesn't do this all that often, honestly I think it doesn't occur to her mostly, but when she does I like it.
But there's also more subtle ways that I relate to her that might be called service, in a very broad definition of the term. I service her, one could say, by letting her control me. By gracefully and without a fuss constantly report my whereabouts and plans and actions and travels to her, so that she'll always know where to find me. By never making definite plans with anyone without checking in with her first. By presenting things to her in a manner that makes it clear that the decision is up to her, that I'm merely presenting alternatives.
By now, all those things are second nature to me - but seeing them in the light of "service" made me feel a little better about myself. After all, I could act in other ways. Those other ways would have consequences, bad once, but that doesn't mean I can't give myself credit for making wise decisions and behaving well.
An even more convoluted way of looking at it is the things I don't do, and where the refraining in itself can be considered service, as sorts. I try very hard not to lash out at her when I'm upset. Sometimes I fail, but nowadays I often succeed. Not because she'll punish me otherwise, but because I hurt and upset her, and I contribute much more to our relationship if I keep calm and, in all honesty, shut up.
I also refrain from second guessing her, barging in when she gives signs of insecurity and doubt, or trying to "help out" if I think she can't handle something. Again, not always, but most of the time, I succeed. Oddly enough, a lot of my "service" consists of not doing things. First, do no harm.
---
And then I had to go to bed. This continues therefore the day after.
Today, I had very clear orders to fix a few errands at the pharmacy and the bank, leave and pick up little S, and have lunch, and nothing else. When I asked, she agreed to me studying for no more than an hour. And when she left in the morning, she agreed in letting me clear the dishes after breakfast, since she was in a hurry. So today, I'm obeying her and servicing her by reading a new Kelley Armstrong-novel on the iPad, and drinking tea in front of the telly. The doing as she tells me to part is obedience. The doing it with grace and without fuss is service. In a way.
Jan 22, 2013
Making it easier
We had an interesting talk yesterday. We had finally gotten into bed at night, after Mistress had started answering work emails after brushing her teeth. I waited for her with a book on the sofa while she worked, and when I realised I was really tired I meekly asked her if it wasn't time for bed soon. She agreed and shut down the computer and we crawled in to bed. But then she commented on the fact that she'd started working late in the evening, and mentioned that I'd been sitting there and seemed to have had a good time too, or something similar.
And that made me freak.
Not that bad of a freaking, actually, I got a bad feeling in my stomach and a lingering panic, but I didn't do or say anything disrespectful or hasty. We explored together what it was that had made me uncomfortable, and after a while I realised it was mostly that the idea that she thought everything was "okay" with me (in the sense that I agreed on her decision to start working late at night) made me feel responsible for her.
Like if I didn't like it I should make sure to let her know that. While on the other hand she really doesn't want that from me, and I was going in the other direction - dutifully trying to accept Mistress' decision and doing the best of the situation instead of trying to control it or sway her in one way or another.
She admitted that yes, if I had seemed genuinely distressed she would have stopped, for my sake, because she didn't want me to suffer over it. But that wouldn't have been what she wanted. She reassured me that she had loved to be able to write those email without worrying about me, and that I had no responsibility whatsoever for whether she did it or not.
Somehow this made everything okay for me again. I wasn't responsible for her. She wasn't looking to me for approval. I didn't have a duty to her to approve or disapprove of her actions.
And the most important thing was something she said at the end of the conversation: "This time you did make my life easier."
It's something I've said that I don't do. Warmer, nicer, more loving, more interesting, more meaningful, yes, all of those, but not easier. I often perceive myself as a lot of work for Mistress, like a loved but somewhat annoying pet. I would dearly love to be of service, to be able to lighten her load, to be able to do just that - make her life easier. It's just that I know that I often isn't even close, and I'm okay with that. I know she loves me for me. But still. This one time I obviously did just that. And it feels so so good.
And that made me freak.
Not that bad of a freaking, actually, I got a bad feeling in my stomach and a lingering panic, but I didn't do or say anything disrespectful or hasty. We explored together what it was that had made me uncomfortable, and after a while I realised it was mostly that the idea that she thought everything was "okay" with me (in the sense that I agreed on her decision to start working late at night) made me feel responsible for her.
Like if I didn't like it I should make sure to let her know that. While on the other hand she really doesn't want that from me, and I was going in the other direction - dutifully trying to accept Mistress' decision and doing the best of the situation instead of trying to control it or sway her in one way or another.
She admitted that yes, if I had seemed genuinely distressed she would have stopped, for my sake, because she didn't want me to suffer over it. But that wouldn't have been what she wanted. She reassured me that she had loved to be able to write those email without worrying about me, and that I had no responsibility whatsoever for whether she did it or not.
Somehow this made everything okay for me again. I wasn't responsible for her. She wasn't looking to me for approval. I didn't have a duty to her to approve or disapprove of her actions.
And the most important thing was something she said at the end of the conversation: "This time you did make my life easier."
It's something I've said that I don't do. Warmer, nicer, more loving, more interesting, more meaningful, yes, all of those, but not easier. I often perceive myself as a lot of work for Mistress, like a loved but somewhat annoying pet. I would dearly love to be of service, to be able to lighten her load, to be able to do just that - make her life easier. It's just that I know that I often isn't even close, and I'm okay with that. I know she loves me for me. But still. This one time I obviously did just that. And it feels so so good.
Dec 4, 2012
Tired, oh so tired.
I'm so so tired right now. So is Mistress, she didn't get home from work until seven, but she's sitting by the computer right now, doing something important for work.
And I get that it's important. I even know what it is she's doing and I agree that it's a good thing. But I'm worried about her. And about myself. I can't really separate between us, so when she's in a foul mood, I suffer. Not because she intends me to, God no, but because I can't... shield myself. There's nothing in the way between her bad mood and my discomfort.
If she's stressed, I'm stressed. And if I'm stressed, not only do I worry about her, but I can't recuperate on my own either. And if I can't recuperate, my health problems get worse. And then I can do less things for us, and she has more to stress over. And the responsibility not to get stressed, to try to recharge my batteries, to think happy thoughts and not get bogged down in depressive rumination, makes me feel guilty and the only thing that happens is that I get stressed out and feel even guiltier...
Also, when she's grumpy I get scared. I get insecure and shaky and watch her every move, afraid of doing or saying anything wrong. This would probably be easier to fix if it was all down to my insecurities, but unfortunately, we have a long history of bitter arguments, and she's not always predictable.
Right now, though, she doesn't have that tense, far-away look any more, she seems present and calm, and my fears are coming to rest. I'm still dead tired, though.
I just want to sleep. Sometimes I don't want to wake up either, but I work hard not to dwell on that. I know that the world is a beautiful place, really. It's just really hard to remember that when I'm to exhausted.
What I did today that tired me so? Just a normal study day. I had a therapy session, wrote a rapport of that, had lunch with a friend, had a group discussion in preparation of a seminar on Thursday, and then took the bus home, shopping things for dinner on the way home. Just a normal day. It's just that that my brain isn't really normal.
Can someone shut it off now, please?
And I get that it's important. I even know what it is she's doing and I agree that it's a good thing. But I'm worried about her. And about myself. I can't really separate between us, so when she's in a foul mood, I suffer. Not because she intends me to, God no, but because I can't... shield myself. There's nothing in the way between her bad mood and my discomfort.
If she's stressed, I'm stressed. And if I'm stressed, not only do I worry about her, but I can't recuperate on my own either. And if I can't recuperate, my health problems get worse. And then I can do less things for us, and she has more to stress over. And the responsibility not to get stressed, to try to recharge my batteries, to think happy thoughts and not get bogged down in depressive rumination, makes me feel guilty and the only thing that happens is that I get stressed out and feel even guiltier...
Also, when she's grumpy I get scared. I get insecure and shaky and watch her every move, afraid of doing or saying anything wrong. This would probably be easier to fix if it was all down to my insecurities, but unfortunately, we have a long history of bitter arguments, and she's not always predictable.
Right now, though, she doesn't have that tense, far-away look any more, she seems present and calm, and my fears are coming to rest. I'm still dead tired, though.
I just want to sleep. Sometimes I don't want to wake up either, but I work hard not to dwell on that. I know that the world is a beautiful place, really. It's just really hard to remember that when I'm to exhausted.
What I did today that tired me so? Just a normal study day. I had a therapy session, wrote a rapport of that, had lunch with a friend, had a group discussion in preparation of a seminar on Thursday, and then took the bus home, shopping things for dinner on the way home. Just a normal day. It's just that that my brain isn't really normal.
Can someone shut it off now, please?
Nov 25, 2012
The concept of service
I started a thread in a FetLife-group about service, and feel like I should write something in it, but every time I try it turns out way to long in my head. And if it's to long in my head, it will most probably be very much to long as a post in a discussion. It will have to be a blog post instead. Maybe I can distil some of it into something coherent later.
The thing is, I don't like service. I don't like the word, but it's not on a phonetic level, much like with responsibility I'm perfectly aware of what it means, and just plain don't like it. Actually, responsibility and service touch upon much of the same issues for me.
One of the posts in the discussion mentioned service as being "available for action" and that struck a chord. I can't do that. I can't be "available" for an unclear period of time. I can't wait on anyone, in either sense of the word. I can barely keep my focus in a conversation, and if my fellow conversationalist take to long a breathing pause between sentences, I'm likely to wander off and do something else in the meantime. I have a very short working memory and attention span, and honestly, waiting exhausts me.
So I can't sit by Mistress' feet and wait for a hand gesture or the right time to do something. I can't keep track of the water level in her drinking glass - I mean, I can barely keep track of my own head, and that's screwed on tight. I can't take responsibility for her comfort level, period. She'll have to do that herself. Not because I don't want to, but because I'm extremely bad at it, and get sick from stress and exhaustion when I try. And also, before I get sick, I get really really irritable and snarky.
What I can do is sit by her feet and rest. Not on stand by, not waiting, just sitting. I can be turned off and not do anything. That works perfectly fine. But I can't do that and also remember a steak in the oven, hanging the laundry when the cycle is done, or checking whether Mistress would like a refill on her coffee. If I'm off I'm off, and want get started again without some kind of cue.
That cue might very well be an order, there's no problems there, but it has to be a distinct order, something that is loud enough to get my attention, and a discreet hand signal or an empty coffee mug isn't enough. The cue might be an egg timer telling me to check the steak or the silence when the washing machine stops (actually, we have a community laundromat, and no machine of our own, but if we did have one) or something as internal as me needing to pee or getting a leg cramp. But there has to be something, something tangible and clear. Then I get going again, and do all those things I need to do, for a while, until I rest again. There's no middle ground. There's no waiting. There's no "being available".
Of course, this has to do with ADHD. I don't think this is true for everybody with the diagnosis, it can manifest in a thousand ways, but I do think that for me the deficit in working memory and attention span, as well as the tendency to only have two energy levels, full speed or full stop, makes "service" a difficult concept. It seems to require a kind of constant, low grade attention directed at the Owner and that persons needs and possible future needs, and I can't give anything that kind of attention. Not that I don't want to, but it takes a ridiculous amount of effort when I try, and I still do it badly.
I do better at obedience. Some people in the discussion implied that all kinds of obedience was a form of service, but for me it's easier to see it as two different things. I can be obedient. I might have trouble remembering rules, and sometimes my lack of inhibition and impulse control (ADHD again) gets the better of me, but I never intend to disobey. And a clear order face to face I always obey.
It's the forethought I can't do. Foreseeing needs and trying to fulfil them.Or doing something extra good, or whatever. I always do everything as good as I can - trying to increase that in the name of service makes me cry from performance anxiety.
I need to learn not to over-achieve, not to take responsibility for others needs, not to think my worth lies solely in performance. The concept of "service" seems to do nothing for me in that regard, it's more a hindrance than a help. Obedience and control, however, makes me peaceful and content and happy, and thus a much better slut and property and person to be around.
The funny thing though is that I love fetching stuff for Mistress. I love doing things that makes her happy, or more comfortable, or makes something she wants to achieve easier. I love helping her and I love it when she's happy with me. But it's better for both of us if I can do that when the opportunities presents themselves to me, or when she orders me to it, and not having me walking around with constant anxiety over whether or not I provide a high enough level of service. Because that's just draining.
I think it might matter that I'm naturally inclined to always do my best even if it kills me, to always take responsibility for everything including things I have no way of controlling, and to immediately be acutely aware of anyone else's discomfort and feel driven to make everything better. That fire really doesn't need any more fuel on it, such as me thinking I need to deliver "service". That fire needs some water and a good stomping, nothing else.
So I think I'll keep on feeling controlled and knowing I obey, and trust that Mistress will guide me where she wants me to go, without me going out of my way in making things more complicated then they already are. She wont get a service-slut this year either. Maybe some other year, if I can pick one up for her on any local fetish party. But it wont me.
The thing is, I don't like service. I don't like the word, but it's not on a phonetic level, much like with responsibility I'm perfectly aware of what it means, and just plain don't like it. Actually, responsibility and service touch upon much of the same issues for me.
One of the posts in the discussion mentioned service as being "available for action" and that struck a chord. I can't do that. I can't be "available" for an unclear period of time. I can't wait on anyone, in either sense of the word. I can barely keep my focus in a conversation, and if my fellow conversationalist take to long a breathing pause between sentences, I'm likely to wander off and do something else in the meantime. I have a very short working memory and attention span, and honestly, waiting exhausts me.
So I can't sit by Mistress' feet and wait for a hand gesture or the right time to do something. I can't keep track of the water level in her drinking glass - I mean, I can barely keep track of my own head, and that's screwed on tight. I can't take responsibility for her comfort level, period. She'll have to do that herself. Not because I don't want to, but because I'm extremely bad at it, and get sick from stress and exhaustion when I try. And also, before I get sick, I get really really irritable and snarky.
What I can do is sit by her feet and rest. Not on stand by, not waiting, just sitting. I can be turned off and not do anything. That works perfectly fine. But I can't do that and also remember a steak in the oven, hanging the laundry when the cycle is done, or checking whether Mistress would like a refill on her coffee. If I'm off I'm off, and want get started again without some kind of cue.
That cue might very well be an order, there's no problems there, but it has to be a distinct order, something that is loud enough to get my attention, and a discreet hand signal or an empty coffee mug isn't enough. The cue might be an egg timer telling me to check the steak or the silence when the washing machine stops (actually, we have a community laundromat, and no machine of our own, but if we did have one) or something as internal as me needing to pee or getting a leg cramp. But there has to be something, something tangible and clear. Then I get going again, and do all those things I need to do, for a while, until I rest again. There's no middle ground. There's no waiting. There's no "being available".
Of course, this has to do with ADHD. I don't think this is true for everybody with the diagnosis, it can manifest in a thousand ways, but I do think that for me the deficit in working memory and attention span, as well as the tendency to only have two energy levels, full speed or full stop, makes "service" a difficult concept. It seems to require a kind of constant, low grade attention directed at the Owner and that persons needs and possible future needs, and I can't give anything that kind of attention. Not that I don't want to, but it takes a ridiculous amount of effort when I try, and I still do it badly.
I do better at obedience. Some people in the discussion implied that all kinds of obedience was a form of service, but for me it's easier to see it as two different things. I can be obedient. I might have trouble remembering rules, and sometimes my lack of inhibition and impulse control (ADHD again) gets the better of me, but I never intend to disobey. And a clear order face to face I always obey.
It's the forethought I can't do. Foreseeing needs and trying to fulfil them.Or doing something extra good, or whatever. I always do everything as good as I can - trying to increase that in the name of service makes me cry from performance anxiety.
I need to learn not to over-achieve, not to take responsibility for others needs, not to think my worth lies solely in performance. The concept of "service" seems to do nothing for me in that regard, it's more a hindrance than a help. Obedience and control, however, makes me peaceful and content and happy, and thus a much better slut and property and person to be around.
The funny thing though is that I love fetching stuff for Mistress. I love doing things that makes her happy, or more comfortable, or makes something she wants to achieve easier. I love helping her and I love it when she's happy with me. But it's better for both of us if I can do that when the opportunities presents themselves to me, or when she orders me to it, and not having me walking around with constant anxiety over whether or not I provide a high enough level of service. Because that's just draining.
I think it might matter that I'm naturally inclined to always do my best even if it kills me, to always take responsibility for everything including things I have no way of controlling, and to immediately be acutely aware of anyone else's discomfort and feel driven to make everything better. That fire really doesn't need any more fuel on it, such as me thinking I need to deliver "service". That fire needs some water and a good stomping, nothing else.
So I think I'll keep on feeling controlled and knowing I obey, and trust that Mistress will guide me where she wants me to go, without me going out of my way in making things more complicated then they already are. She wont get a service-slut this year either. Maybe some other year, if I can pick one up for her on any local fetish party. But it wont me.
Nov 22, 2012
Playing hairdresser
I realised one more thing I do that I'm good at. I cut Mistress' and little S' hair. I've been training on Mistress since little S was an infant and the last time she was at the hairdresser resulted in her feeling hurt and upset. They never get how she wants it, and they always try to turn her into a girly girl. No matter how many times she says "classic mens look". Even when she brought me along for extra support could we manage to explain to the girl with the scissors that no, she did not want girly sideburns. Or hairspray. Or a nice feminine touch to her bangs.
So I've been practising, and shortening it gradually. Every time she reacts with an "Oh my God! What have you done!" and after an hour or so, she's used to it and likes it. Now I'm done to a 5mm buzz cut, and it's suits her perfectly.
Little S just gets her shortened at the neck and straight bangs at the front, so that the hair doesn't fall in her eyes. She's not overly found of combing, and her hair is kind of thin and flying all over the place, so it looks best a little shorter.
I guess cutting hair is a service, of sorts. I think that if I want to look for things I could be said to do specifically for Mistress, it makes much more sense to look at the specialised, once in a while-things, that takes guts and creativity. Those I'm good at. Routine stuff? Naaah. Not my thing.
So I've been practising, and shortening it gradually. Every time she reacts with an "Oh my God! What have you done!" and after an hour or so, she's used to it and likes it. Now I'm done to a 5mm buzz cut, and it's suits her perfectly.
Little S just gets her shortened at the neck and straight bangs at the front, so that the hair doesn't fall in her eyes. She's not overly found of combing, and her hair is kind of thin and flying all over the place, so it looks best a little shorter.
I guess cutting hair is a service, of sorts. I think that if I want to look for things I could be said to do specifically for Mistress, it makes much more sense to look at the specialised, once in a while-things, that takes guts and creativity. Those I'm good at. Routine stuff? Naaah. Not my thing.
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