Master and I are not a 24/7 D/s couple. That is to say, it’s always D/s between us, but we don’t live together. It manifests mostly in our times together, or in small tasks He sets to me. Overall, though, our vanilla lives and D/s lives, while intersecting, don’t overlap all that much.
We met on Saturday evening and had a lovely birthday time together. (You’ve all seen the photo of my gift, I’m sure. It’s here if you missed it.) I was starting to feel better than I had all week, though not “healthy”….and He was very kind to me in my snuffly state.
And then Sunday hit like a tsunami of sick. I felt like a ton of bricks had fallen on me. Eyes swollen almost shut. Sneezing every 5 damn minutes. Almost no voice, and what there was, raspy in a totally unsexy way.
I spoke to Him on the phone and He was concerned. Ordered me to get chicken soup on Monday, and take care of myself. And I did, and I did, and yanno? Antibiotics are amazing things. 🙂 Tuesday the course of things changed–omg–is *that* what breathing feels like? I am feeling better at last; my eyes open all the way now, and my face doesn’t resemble a bowling ball…
I was thinking about how few times He’s thrown His Dominance around in my vanilla life. He rarely makes me do anything that would “crossover”…so when He does, it has great impact. This “ordering” me to take better care of myself was kind of a jolt. In my vanilla life I’m pretty programmed to “keep on plugging”. Sick days spent in bed? Never…or so long ago I scarce remember it. But along with the admonishment to get the soup and proper treatment, was also His order for an early bed, and a strong suggestion to not take advantage of the fact that I still have 8 orgasms in my O bank.
“Let your body put its energy into healing,” He said. “That’s not an order, but a suggestion. You need to take care of yourself nilla.”
And per usual, He was right. An early bed, a good sleep, and antibiotics all combined to make me one much happier, healthier nilla.
I was thinking the other day about other Dom/sub relationships. Some of you have those intellectual conversations, deep thinking, questions. He’s not into that. We have learned one another, but not always (at least, not since my very early days of submission) through those searching questions. I tried asking Him a few questions, the other night, and He was just “yanno, nilla, the next time you keep pinging my phone at 1130 at night with stupid questions, I’m gonna drown you in the toilet.”
Yes. He said that.
And of course I laughed. It’s just how He is. My submission is in doing what He wants, when He wants it–it’s just not any more complicated than that. We love one another, sure, care about each others lives and vanilla stuff, but it comes down to the bare bones of He says sit and I say “yes Sir”…and I’m good with that. It’s what I want…I don’t want head games and deep thinking and ‘does He mean X’…a ‘sit’ is just a sit, and obedience is just that–doing what He says. Sure, sometimes there is the silly nilla during playtime, when I stick a heart on Him, or push the envelope by taking my head off the wall just to tweak Him a bit…hey, that sort of thing keeps Him on His toes…and is part of the game for us. He doesn’t want a doormat, after all, but the challenge of a somewhat naughty slut. NOT overt “I’m gonna defy you” stuff, just — tweaking–. I can’t explain it other than that.
And my reward?
His time. His attention. A good beating. A good fucking. Hugs and cuddles. Pinches. Bites. Good stuff, my friends, good damn stuff for us both.