The elephant in the tub

I read this today:

{{And he did. And it was glorious. I’d forgotten how hot and intimate and objectifying and possessive/territorial …  felt; it was wonderful to be reminded.}} Emphasis mine

I have been thinking about You marking me since Our last time together. About how conflicted I was when You said I had to ask for it. Pussy and Brain were screaming at each other in a Battle Royale.

I felt the time ticking by as I tried to verbalize what I wanted. I knelt there in fear that You would take away the option before I could get the words out. The level of my desire for this act felt intrinsically wrong. I could not understand why I wanted this thing that is a hard limit for so many. That is, in fact, included in my now-invalid hard limits. You made me ask for it. I could no longer pretend that I sit passively by and allow You to do this thing “to me”. You made me an active participant. I was ashamed that I wanted it.

Then today I read the excerpt above. The author gave voice to how I felt. She encapsulated it perfectly. I am Yours. This thing that we do, this type of marking, highlights Your possession. It will be a long time before Brain and Pussy will be in agreement. I’m glad I have begun to have an understanding of what Pussy has been making so much noise about.

Today I am grateful for: a comfy bed
Today’s funny moment: n/a
Sad moment: Nope. Not allergies.
Protocol: I’ve been thinking about assisting backstage. I’m not sure what the protocol is for this. What is the hierarchy? Is she at a sister level? A Domme level? I would like some guidance on this.
Water: 5 liters
Corset: not worn
Hood: n/a


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