Owned.

Last night I got very frusted about some things that are going on in my life at the moment, and then M held me while I cried. I didn't actually feel that much better though and wound up having a bit of an Attitude while talking with M. Part of it was that I wanted control over something, and sometimes my strategies for this aren't as good as they could be so it feels like the only way I can do this is to be rude and to break my rules. The other part of it was just that I was feeling sulky and sort of wanted the rest of the universe to know about it (yes, very mature, I know).

During this M was talking to me about my rules for the following week. He's lifted the no swearing rule (thank fuck for that!) but moved my bedtime back because I keep being so tired, and if it's a late bedtime I don't go to bed earlier on my own. So now I have to be in bed by eleven and my light has to be off by half past. Ugh!

Because I was sulky and attention-seeking, I scowled and said "well, what if I don't want any rules at all." M was very patient and held me, and within a couple of minutes I was crying again. I did actually know the whole time that I was going to have rules no matter what I said. And deep down this was a very comforting thought. I did toy with the idea of systematically breaking them all week - M would certainly have recognised this as one of the choices I get to make. Except I know that I have to accept the consequences of my choices, and that he would have then systematically punished me for each one that I broke and for each time I broke it, in turn. Not. Worth. It. But it was somehow angrily satisfying to think about how I could have been deliberately disobedient and wayward all week.

Much later in the evening I admitted to M that, although I'd been thinking of breaking all my rules, I'd suddenly realised half way through my musings that I would not be able to break my rule about touching my cunt. Or more specifically, not touching my cunt with my bare fingers. It's one of the most powerful reminders, for me, that I don't belong to myself, I belong to M, and he's the one who decides who, where, when and how I am touched. And that to emphasise this, my bare cunt is off limits to me (but not to other partners).

So, although I'd been tempted to break all my other rules, about bed times and junk food and so forth, I'd balked at the idea of breaking the rule that symbolises my status as his pet. Aside from the fact that I know exactly what the punishment would be and there's no way I ever want to incur it, I also still had enough sense to want to preserve what we have. But also, it just struck me as something akin to blasphemous. As being completely beyond the pale. Because I am his, and don't actually want to display that level of disrespect.

I'm really pleased about that.