Before I start climbing the bitch ladder lol, I would like to say something about respect--It's a necessary component of any relationship. And I respect Alpha more than any other human being on the face of this planet. I don't know if that means more or less given that the list of people I actually respect is very short...Anyways, back to that ladder.
I didn't want to. I was tired, my back hurt, I was feeling sluggish and cranky. I Really didn't want to. So I decided to stage my own personal little revolution in a completely diplomatic and respectful manner. Translation: "I don't want to." Alpha shot a raised eyebrow in my direction. The kind that is inviting me to dig myself in deeper and if I'm wise I'll shut up right there. I was not feeling wise. "I don't want to and I will not!" Predictably, there came the hand around my throat depriving me of oxygen and offering a very good excuse to shut the fuck up. "Fuck you! I don't want to do this anymore!" I wheezed offering Him the universal symbol of love with both hands. His grip tightened. Then He let go giving me something that was a mix between a derisive snort and an all-out laugh. We both know if He said "okay, you are no longer owned and we are not doing this anymore," that I would shit (figuratively) and come crawling back begging (literally) to be owned and Dominated once again.
When we made it to bed, I still damn well didn't want to. "Do you know what time it is?" He gave me that infuriating grin. "Yes I do, it's time for you to service the account" translation--you're going to suck my dick. I glared at Him and bit and bitched. I was never going to get any of my beloved sleep if I kept the revolution alive so I let it die. And I sucked. And fucked. At some point (see, the haziness is kicking in), I admitted that I have a hard time viewing myself as property. He has this thing where He makes me look Him in the eye while we are having sex. Particularly if we are having a discussion (usually with only one side making sense. And it's not me). He used my hair like a handle and turned my head making me look straight in His eyes. It's almost mentally painful because His look becomes so intense it's difficult not to just squeeze my eyes shut. But even if I do, I can still feel Him looking...Back on point, His reply was immediate "why should you have a hard time viewing yourself as My property, can anyone else do the things I do to you, could anyone else make you shit and piss the bed before you get out of bed in the morning if they wanted to [at this point it's almost a threat, my only consolation is that I know He gets off on controlling my bodily fluids and scat's not a big area of interest], I could make you piss yourself right now if I wanted to." Point taken.
Which leads me to something that I have been thinking about ever since I got in trouble for not eating dinner--taking care of me and viewing myself as property. I try my best to take care of anything and anyone I perceive as being His. From His health and house, to His employees and small possessions. But not myself...To the extent that He has made rules about basic things from brushing my teeth and eating properly to making me get and keep appointments with chiropractors and dentists. If I take a step outside my personal perception, it seems a bit ridiculous--I mean, how sad is it, as a full grown woman, to need rules surrounding basic care of myself?
So I would like to work on that more. Viewing myself as His property. How I care for myself being a good reflection on Him. And I wonder why, since I am so obviously happily and unavoidably owned, is it so difficult for me to perceive myself as property?