It all started with a fall that left me in a million pieces. Then, I kept refusing him.
I'm sure it made him question everything.
I was questioning everything. I struggle, a lot.
I convinced myself I could do without. I did enough to get by--I kept putting the plug in and my collar on, we had sex, I kept my head above the water. I was so tired of being so much work for him and I was determined to change. I did a pretty good job.
Time past and I began to feel like a fake. I wanted to change the blog name like a million times, because it made me
I consider myself a slave because that's what he says I am and I believe it because I feel it at my core. It has nothing to do with how we play or how he controls me. When I quit feeling like a slave, it's like I have something in my chest clawing to get out, and it's always fucking there.
I am his, nothing will change that, but (apparently) I need to feel it.
I can only take that clawing feeling for so long. It's annoying and it eats me up.
So we talked.
He thought I didn't really want to be controlled and I thought he didn't want to control me (because he seemed happy).
And, you know, it's hard to lead someone when they don't seem to follow and it's hard to follow when you think you don't have a leader.
Obviously, it boils down to no communication and a very confused me.
He has let me make his coffee since we talked.
I forgot to wear my plug yesterday and he let me know that it mattered (he enjoyed letting me know that it mattered and doesn't mind if I keep forgetting. (I didn't forget it today.))
Small steps, but there has been a shift in the air.
I feel like I'm ready to give up on being something I'm not.