Fighting fears, building alliances… and facing the real threat to my self-control.
It’s occurred to me these past few days, with my interactions with these European men now in my life, a certain kind of whimsy. La Sumisa it was once said, found off of the coast of Gibraltar.
Well, maybe she has been well and truly found now.
I responded to slave Shae’s post on Wednesday, on her “retraining”. Slave training is something that I personally balk at, owing to it that I’m “not that submissive”. Perhaps fortunately, any Dominant that I have associated with has generally accepted that too.
So it’s not something that’s wanted or needed, for us.
Well… sorta, kinda, maybe.
It’s not something that I want, sure, and as Master says, “if a Dominant told you what to do, you’d tell him where to go” (he isn’t wrong). Master knows that instructions don’t work with me; I have to want to please him.
And to want to please a Dominant, I have to feel respected, as a person as well as a submissive.
Fortunately, I do. I want to please both of my husbands because of the care and respect that they give to me – inspite of all their torment.
But this, I feel, is where Master has truly mastered me, and when I called him up about it, he could only smile knowingly.
Master has worked out that if he instructs me, he’s likely to be met with opposition. If Master requests me, I’ll jump through hoops to get it done.
Secondly, Master has worked out that incentives work well with me. I tell him that that’s not fair, and he points out that it’s very fair when he’s the one who buys my bubble tea. That he doesn’t ask big things of me, and that it “could be worse”. So I lost that one too. He’s lucky that I love him… And bubble tea.
Finally, and perhaps most insidiously, Master has trained me subliminally to do more of the things he likes. It started with a navy floral print wrap top, that he picked over the black one I suggested. I now know that Master likes me in navy, so I wear navy more often. He cooed over me anytime I put my hair up in a bun, so I gathered that style must suit me better. He always bought me dangle earrings, so subconsciously, I always shopped for more in that style.
He’d spend hours between my thighs anytime I smooth-shaved, so I started being more attentive with my shaving habits.
Like I say, never forceful or direct. Insidious.
Shae did come back to me on my comment, she tormented me about my being sent to the kitchen (by Master) to cook turkey burgers. When I told him, Master laughed out loud.
“I thought you submissives stick together? Your alliance just gets smaller and smaller” he says. More glares.
I have promised Shae that I will stop by more often now, upon her request. Our Doms can form their alliances, so I don’t see why us sisters in submission can’t too. Watch out world, two total sasspots just publicly joined forces 😉
I had Sir JGood torment me too, about fragrances (after my tormenting of Mr C in my last post) and after I called him out for his perceived jealousy over my new friendships – Sir joked that “Jealousy” is his new fragrance and I said that I wasn’t a fan. Such is the relationship between us: forever poking at one another, but would both be quite upset if we actually hurt one another.
Sir has assured me though that he’s not jealous, which is lovely in itself as it means I don’t have to worry as much about unintentionally hurting him. He referred to M as “the Portuguese man of war” though, which I feel was more of a poke at me than my new friend. Still, I take it all in my stride: there’s only one man of war around here, Mr Valkyries.
Tuesday I had Mum drop by on a surprise visit – she’s in the area and wondered if she could stop by for a brew. I’m happy to entertain her, though I warn her that I haven’t baked or bought a cake as I wasn’t expecting her. She’s fine with it.
Among things she mentioned the latest Russian jet incursions into Nato airspace. She asks me if I “know what they’ve been talking about lately” and an icy chill sets over me. World War Three.
I won’t reveal the family plan, but if the manure really does it the whirring air circulating device, we have a location that we can escape to away from any major cities. It won’t be a comfortable life, but it will (hopefully) be a safer life than the one we might have if we stayed in Bristol.
We get talking about prepping, and I admit to Mum that I’m a “casual prepper”.
“I don’t have things like guns, CBRN suits or gas masks. We don’t live near any military installations and if it really gets that bad, it’s probably going to be too late for a CBRN suit anyway” I say grimly.
I give Mum a tour of the rest of our provisions including the grab and go fire escape bag behind the bedroom door, our wind-up radio and fire extinguisher in a bottle, stored canned and dried food and our emergency water purification system which can purify more than 1,000 gallons of usable water. She’s impressed.
Fortunately, it’s been Shadow to the rescue of my mental health once again.
Despite my mother’s alarmist speech, Shadow helped me to see that Russia and the US poke and provoke one another often, that the rhetoric can often get a bit fiery but in the end, war doesn’t break out because neither side really wants a war. Shadow also helped me to understand that the war rhetoric is often to create a strongman image for the domestic and foreign audiences, not an intention to actually start a war.
I only hope Shadow’s right again.
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Until next time!
Stay safe & have fun,
The Thoughts & Musings Of Mrs Wolfie 
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