Merry Christmas

One of my unofficial Christmas presents this year has been a re-activation, if you will, of M taking a more active role in keeping me on the straight and narrow. I've had some rules over the last few months (maintaining a bedtime routine, needing separate permissions for masturbating and orgasming, being naked when we're at home without guests) but calling me to account for them hasn't gone as we planned as it turns out that I will just let it slide, and slide, and slide. I also decided to give myself a star chart for December around some household chores, more to get some sense of how often they're done, but it's acted a bit as a motivator as well.

So since the 24th I've had to finish my bedtime routine and then bend over the end of the bed and wait for him. He's now the one who decides how many stars I deserve, and he also decides whether to get an implement out or not.

Given that we've only been doing this for three days so far, it's not very promising that I've already been spanked twice, although fortunately only mildly. The first time was on the first night, a few relatively light swats with his belt I think mostly to get my attention and to reinforce that he can spank me even if I haven't been naughty. But last night I got some swats from our heavier, scarier paddle for forgetting to do my physio exercises (um, forgetting for a week, actually). Nowhere near as devastating as it can be, just hard enough make my body jerk in response and my breath huff out and my hands to grip the bedclothes harder and my brain to ask why I was so stupid as to not do the exercises.

One thing's for sure, it's a definite incentive to make sure I do them today. I do not want to give him reason to use it any harder!

(I'm writing this whilst taking a break from writing out 100 lines for him, by the way. Not punishment lines, 'just' reinforcement lines. Unfortunately my hand's still as sore as though they were punishment lines :-( And the kicker is I already did them last week but I'd remembered what he'd dictated the line to be just slightly differently from what he'd actually said and now I have to re-do them!)

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.

Frustrated*

* in a good way. I suppose.

Of course, if you were away from your boyfriend for two nights and were told you were allowed only one orgasm on one of those two nights - the night after you'd had the orgasm, you'd surely be too sensible to spend most of the evening reading porn on the internet?

Sparkle linked to some wonderful stories that people have written and posted on the internet, and now I want to touch myself. Want to come. Which I'm not allowed to do, because I did last night. So I want to take things that do not belong to me, that I willingly gave away into the control of another person.

I didn't text M to ask him to bend my rules, I just wanted to let him know how I was feeling. Partly because it sort of makes it easier if I share it with him, and partly because he likes the thought of me horny and aching for him.

So I was not surprised that the text I got in reply was not exactly soothing, although I suppose one could argue that it is at least a bit sympathetic (although it doesn't feel that way):
Why not pop the dildo pants on and remember what a lucky girl you'll feel like when I hook my fingers into your cunt tomorrow night.

Night, all.

(Also, I'm beginning to regret my naming of the blog. It seems to be turning into a more general sort of blog exploring my submission to, and with, M. I may have to think about re-naming it.)