My head is all over the place, I’ve not got a creative thought in my head tonight.  But this thought keeps coming back to me.

Master says I’m a spoiled slut.

(not that I mind, you grok?!)

I guess I am.

But let’s back up just a wee bit.

I have  a new job. I’m not sure I mentioned it as I’ve been on “trial” for the last 5 weeks. Next week I go on payroll, rather than “independent contractor”. And my job is FAR from my house, nearly an hours commute, and it pays about half what I got at my old job.

It’s totally completely different work…and I love it.

LOVE it.

I’m using the commute as a chill out time, despite the ride home often being frustrating (lots of traffic lights)…but it’s a beautiful ride, so I’m working on the positives here!

After a 9 hour shift that is almost non-stop, I hop in the car and get to call Master. Some Saturday’s we can talk all the way home, some not so much. But I at some point I’ll say..

“so, Master…”

and before I can say another word, He says


no fucking way.

you’re already spoiled enough, nilla. No.

Likely you’ve figured out that I was ready to ask for an O, am I right? Yeah, He figures it out no matter when in our conversation I bring it up. He just knows.  So, tonight, same scene. And I say

“Master, how come you ALWAYS say no on Saturday? And You always say “you had three O’s last night during FNF. So no.”

He repeats that, making me giggle.

“And Master? Then You say I’m such a greedy slut.”

And He says that, and I laugh harder.

“And Master, next You sometimes say “how many o’s do you want?”

and He says it and I jump in fast and say 6.

Then He laughs and says

no fuckin’ way, nilla.

We laugh, and I pout a bit, telling Him how busy it was at work today, and how people are pleased by how fast I’m getting the job done, and doing really well and yada yada…and then I say something like…why is He torturing me on Saturdays?

Well, duh, of course, I know why.

Because He can.

He ignores me, and we talk for a bit longer, then He must go.

I get home and have dinner, and clean up, and do stuff around the house and in the garden, and my work at home job, and finally get up here around 9 p.m.

There is a text on my phone.

“I’ve had a change of “hard” about your o.”


I call Him, immediately. In less than three minutes I go from jubilation…to admiration. I have to hand it to Him, he is a crafty Dom.  He heard my pleas for an o…and took it all into account…and decided to give me a half-o.

Because I am such a spoiled slut, after all.

“But Master, this isn’t enjoyable for me..” I stammer.

“Yeah, I know,” He says with a smirk in His voice. . . “this one’s for Me nilla.”

“Because you are such a spoiled slut.”