The Master card is off the table... and I have not called him that for weeks if not months. It had started to ring false in my ears. And... to be honest... I don't think he noticed. But here, I cannot use his name. So, once a long time ago I had asked him what name he wanted me to use if and when I refered to him here in this blog and he had thrown over his shoulder with devilish disregard...
And for a while I did call him "Dick". Though it had felt wrong.
So... I guess it is Dick for now... until we find something better...
How have things been?
Up and down.
I think he did not really take me seriously... at first. The first night he physically blocked me from getting into bed because I had not asked permission to go to bed. We fought. Physically. I am black and blue... (we fell off the bed onto a chair). He has teeth marks. (Sorry I am a biter.) He won. I finally gave up and asked... in a snarky sarcastic voice. He accepted that small victory.
The next day I was nasty... pure ass... pissed off... passive aggressive nasty. Waiting for those moments when the guard is down... when he is trying to touch me... to stab him in the heart... oh sweet, sweet revenge.
He got all wounded...
I pointed out he had used physical force to make me do something he no longer has a right to do... and I was mad. He looked confused.
He pointed out that it hurts him that I refuse to answer his plaintive "I love you"s with anything other than "I know." He accused me of faking my affection for him...
I sighed and responded... "Twenty three years of faking... seriously?"
But... his I love you's are frought with insecurity... they are pleas for reassurance and I am in no mood to soothe his ego at this time. I do say I love you... just not in response to his.
I do love him...
I have no intention of ending this relationship... just changing it...
Oddly that night we went out on a nice date and had a really nice time. Then the next day he was totally shut down... refusing to talk to me at all... would not even stay in the same room.
Interestingly... he has not once protested that he does not want to stop being my Master. Though you can tell he is like a goldfish that has been dumped out of its bowl... or like someone that learned that they have a terminal disease... or their favorite toy was broken... or stolen.
Interestingly... he did not notice the collar was gone for three days.
The Road to Recovery is Slow
2 hours ago