Pecking Order

I think there may have been some confusion between the words “value” and “status”. For myself as well, as clearly my first thought when Master referred to my low status was to equate it with low value.

But that’s not the case. The words are different.

Status is defined in the following way:

sta·tus
1.the position of an individual in relation to another or others, esp. in regard to social or professional standing.
2. state or condition of affairs
3. Law. the standing of a person before the law.
4. conferring or believed to confer elevated status: a status car; a status job.

And value:

val·ue
- relative worth, merit, or importance
- the worth of something in terms of the amount of other things for which it can be exchanged or in terms of some medium of exchange.
- equivalent worth or return in money, material, services, etc.
- estimated or assigned worth; valuation
- liking or affection; favorable regard.
- any object or quality desirable as a means or as an end in itself.
- to consider with respect to worth, excellence, usefulness, or importance.
- to regard or esteem highly

There are instances where low status is synonymous with low value. But there can also be cases where high value accompanies low status.

If the house were to suddenly catch fire and Master had to choose quickly between saving me or saving the dog, He’d save me. Because the value of my service to Him is worth more than that of the dog. The dog’s higher status on the totem pole does not equal more valuable service.

There are those who would say that any human is, or should be, higher in status than any animal. But what if you compare a twisted serial killer to a highly trained rescue dog? There is, in my mind, a definite elevation of status and worth for that dog and a lowering for the killer.

Another example of a person having low status but high value would be that of a slave in the 1800′s. Slaves were invaluable to the running of plantations (or whatever work they were doing) but all slaves were considered pretty low in status. Even in comparison to each other, an owner might not have recognized a higher status among the slaves, seeing all of them as equally low on the totem pole, but the difference in price, or value, between a young healthy male and a female was great.

I understand that I am highly valuable to Master. He does value His property and acknowledges my worth. But that doesn’t affect my status of “less than”.

There are things that need to be done, perhaps, to reinforce the truths of my status though. Since I do know, and believe, that my value to Him is high, it’s a short hop into viewing myself as higher in status than what He thinks.

I’ve never been easily placated by words alone. I have theories on why I’m like that, but that’s another post. Words that aren’t backed up by actions are meaningless to me. I am not an easy conquest and in some ways it shames me to say that. But it’s the truth and I’m not going to just hear the words “you are lower than the dog” and accept that as truth and thus behave in that manner or treat the dog as a higher figure. If there is no evidence of it, I dismiss it with as much nonchalance as I would if one were to tell me the sky was purple. At one time there was actions that matched His words. But that’s been a long time ago.. and like a stubborn balloon, without consistent batting down, I get quite full of myself and rise accordingly. I figure I’m hovering somewhere near the ceiling at the moment. ;)

I don’t know what that says about me really. I’m content to bop along nice and low as long as He keeps me there, but once I find a hole to soar through, I am off and flying high. I know He gets tired of the work.

I told Him the other day that I can’t just submit if He doesn’t show an interest in something. That it makes me feel weak and stupid to simply comply without some active input from His side. I don’t know if that’s indicative of a larger problem or not. Probably. Polly the Pessimist says it is.

And why do I easily accept that I hold the coveted spot at the bottom of the totem pole but fight the notion of feeling weak and stupid? Why do I equate proactive submission with weakness and stupidity? I don’t in others. I admire those who would hear “you are lower than the dog” and would then immediately subjugate themselves to the dog.

I cannot do that. I need some evidence that He meant it and wasn’t just throwing out words, words that I grasp as gospel.

It’s no wonder I don’t believe what the bible says either huh? Show me proof of God and I’ll be your most devout Christian. Show me proof that Master really sees me as lower than the dog and I’m a willing dog’s bitch.

But a month from now, two months from now, I’ll need proof again. And again.

Well! That certainly went off on a tangent to no-man’s land. I should stop before I cease making any sense whatsoever.

Too late for that? ;-)

~cunt

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Just call me Fido.

So I was asking Master about that post He made. We don’t socialize often with people who live like we do so it’s not often that I’m in a position to call anyone anything.

He doesn’t abide by the “respect is earned” way of living. He says respect is the default, until it’s UN-earned. He, and He expects me, to give everyone the benefit of the doubt and not wait until they have passed some sort of test to be shown respect.

When I asked what He would want me to call other people, He said that of course I would call them Sir or Ma’am, or whatever they preferred to be called, even if *I* didn’t want to or think they deserved it. “Because you’re a slave and you are lower than everybody.”

I quirked a brow, getting all feisty and shit. “So now I’m worthless?”

“I didn’t say worthless. I said lower. Smartass. You’re lower in status, even lower than the dog. You’re a slave. A cunt.”

“Do you think ALL slaves are lower in status?”

“No. Just you.”

But He paused and had to think about it, and dare I say that I suspect He *does* think that. (He’ll probably whap me for this) But, I think that I think that too. I would not see myself as “equal” in status to a dom or a top, not even to a switch or a submissive. And I’d probably think badly of a slave who did see her/himself with equal status.

I don’t know. I figure I’m treading on very thin ice to say that I see slaves on the bottom of the totem pole because I am sure there are plenty who don’t see any sort of hierarchy among the various titles and labels we pick.

Master would never demand that He be addressed as anything other than His name. The few times that we have been out socially with fellow kinksters, He’s never made a fuss about what anyone called Him. He refers to Himself as my Master (Master of kaya), but never as simply Master or Sir. (The “S” that He often signs posts with is His first name initial, not a shortened version of Sir.) But, when He is addressed as Sir by another submissive or slave, I know that He will then look upon that person, and that person’s Owner, with approval. Or maybe approval isn’t the right word. He appreciates the acknowledgment of status.

I don’t chafe at being “lower” than the dog. But I’m not often treated like I’m lower than the dog. It would be a harder pill to swallow if His actions matched His words. I can’t say that I *feel* lower than the dog, nor do I treat the dog as a higher figure. The dog is treated like any other person treats a dog. So I’m not sure, when He says that, what it is I’m supposed to think or feel.

He could tell me I was a bird and I’d give Him the same blank stare.

Oh well. I have no real direction with this post anyway. Just babbling.

I do have to agree with the one comment that said that people’s rejection of any agreement of these words makes the whole damn thing a moot point anyway. Even in a community that is tightly run, where the “head” of the community, the person who started it and moderates it, has defined what the terms mean to Him and how He wishes them to be used in HIS community, has constant and on-going battles over people demanding the words be stretched or morphed to fit them, or taking it no matter that it doesn’t fit at all. If it can’t even be strictly defined in that case, there doesn’t stand a hope of it ever becoming universally defined or agreed upon.

I know. Everyone is going to define a word how they want to. Master and I do the same. Nobody appointed Him as Master (except me) and nobody labeled me as slave (except Him).

Now if you’d all just agree with us! ;-)

~cunt

ps. Something else I just thought of. When Master (or I) talk about a bedroom submissive or a weekend kink-seeker as He mentioned in that post, it’s in reference to someone who only agrees to submit within defined parameters and time spaces. And outside of those time periods and parameters, they expect and demand equal status. I wouldn’t call them submissives or slaves. Neither does Master.

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My boys

Abandoned me for XBOX.

(Pic removed. You’re too late! :D)

I was just messing around with paint and this picture and not only does the color flip hide the mess of our bedroom, but it shows me what Master will probably look like in 10 or 15 years.

He’ll probably still be playing XBOX too.

Sometimes I am totally insanely jealous of video games.

~le sigh~

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From the Master of kaya

I ran across an article that asked Who deserves to be called a Sir so I thought I would post that question here as well, but I would like to extend that to Who also deserves to be called a slave or submissive as well.

I have “dated” a couple females that THOUGHT they were submissive or a slave, but they were only kink seekers or bedroom players if that makes sense. I agree..that a person doesn’t have to be in a 24/7 R/T relationship to be a Sir/Slave/Submissive to truly be one (hope that makes sense). It’s just what we are, but would like to hear from y’all and see what y’all think also.

Best wishes,

S

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mmmmm-chocolate-mmmm

Master came home from work yesterday with two small bags of miniature candy bars, tucked me into bed with both, and let me eat as much as I wanted.

I ate until I had a tummy ache. :D

I napped, I watched movies, He curled up and talked with me for a bit, He let me sleep in until NOON this morning.

Today I feel GREAT. PMS? What PMS?

I love Him so much.

So, yesterday I was asked on the dress post about the awful dress-related consequence of thigh rubbage. Now there’s a non-consensual pain if ever there were one. I compiled a list of effective remedies and considering how many fellow dress wearers there are, I’m going to post it here.

*A thin layer of vaseline, bag balm, noxema, vit. E, or any cream that will allow the skin to slide instead of rub.

*Medicated powder rather than just talcum powder. Gold Bond or something similar.

*A solid white deodorant spread on your thighs.

*When possible (at work or when Master isn’t home?) wear spandex type shorts under your skirt. That will give you a “break” from the thigh friction and allow healing time.

*Mix equal parts A & D ointment and Vaseline (1 cup each). Then add vitamin E cream and Aloe Vera cream (1/4 cup each). Use daily to prevent friction. Plus your thighs will feel *great*.

*BodyGlide, Blister Shield, and Chafe Eez are all products sold for runners specifically for body chaffing. I haven’t used them but if long distance runners swear by them, then I assume they work.

*Any sort of diaper rash ointment will soothe and heal any redness that you already have. Desitin, paladin, A&D ointment.

*If you’re still red and itchy or blistery after a few days of treatment, consider that you’ve possibly developed a fungal infection on the skin (like athlete’s foot) and use something like Lotrimin. (Has nothing to do with cleanliness. It’s all about the irritation and the sweat.) But get diagnosed first, using an anti-fungal when there is no need can make it worse.

*Kitten also suggested wearing thigh high stockings, which I didn’t think of. That meets the open-and-available crotch requirement while still protecting the thighs.

If you have any other methods, please post them. :)

Now I’m off to make up all the cleaning that I didn’t do yesterday. Ugh.

~cunt

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I want

THIS!

Admittedly the facial expression is kinda creepy.

And, admittedly, I’d not fit into it.

But, jeez.. objectification? I want some.

Seen here first. And sold here, for the low low price of $Morethanthe47centsihave.00

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I’m no cheezburger.

I haven’t flooded you all with pet love in ages. So here. Have some.

Sofa Jaws.

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What the icon says.

I am in a fantastically CRAP mood today.

That’s all. For now.

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tee hee

My butt today

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He’d noticed, He was telling me during one conversation while He was away, that I’d started to become a “difficult” sex toy. I was being directed by, and responding to, my current mood and state of mind instead of my purpose as His.

That stung, hearing that. Mostly because I knew He was right. Though I had enough excuses that I could spit them out like a vending machine should He tap the top of my head, excuses are just that. Excuses are deceptions we tell ourselves and others to avoid dealing with unpleasant truths.

Though I would never outright deny Him access to these three holes that He owns, I was less than enthusiastic about it if His desires to use me came at a time when I wasn’t “in the mood”.

He’d had enough of that.

He gives me a whole lot of freedom of expression. I’m glad for it because I am, at my very core, a smart-assed, smart-mouthed bitch who likes nothing more than to reply with pithy, sarcastic comments when I think of them. I adore verbally sparring with Master and I love that He allows me to banter with Him in that way.

But there is a line and in having given me an inch, I’d leaped a mile… and crossed His line.

Witty sarcasm is one thing. Using that sarcasm to lessen His pleasure of having a living, breathing fuck toy is another. I vowed to be better.

Since He’s been home for these last 6 days, He’s thoroughly tested that vow. He’s snatched me at the most inopportune times, pulls me from a dead sleep, or right in the midst of doing something. I’ve spent more time on my hands and knees under the desk this last week than in any other spot in the house.

I have been fucked in one of my three holes at least 20 to 25 times. And that is no exaggeration. Last night, in the middle of a fucking, I recalled with great longing how needy and horny I had been last week. I missed it, for just a moment.

I don’t know how Master maintains His libido, or for how much longer He can do it. I’m sure Viagra makers would like to study Him. He’s 40 years old and has far surpassed my sex drive and I’m supposed to be in my sexual prime.

I don’t say that to brag (maybe a little) and it’s not to make His head swell (believe me, He doesn’t need me for that!), but more to illustrate how being the enthusiastic and cooperative fuck doll is hard.

I noticed while sucking Him off the other night that His cock is beginning to feel roughly abraded. Imagine how my pussy feels. My asshole. My jaw and throat. I HURT.

He complimented me last night, praising how well I’ve done with simply smiling and moving into position. Sometimes I think that maybe He doesn’t know how hard it is to cock my ass in the air and hold it there, legs spread, offering no resistance while He pounds away at my inner organs. But He does. He knows with every stroke.

I also wondered if one could be fucked to death. I thought so, briefly, last night.

Being a fuck doll was a long-held fantasy of mine. Turning my fantasy into His reality is a specialty of His. I’m grateful for it, but damn does it ever hurt. ;-)

You know what else hurts?

Tacks! Tacks hurt. Tack paddles hurt and vampire gloves hurt.

He turned my ass into hamburger meat before He fucked me last night. He paddled me until blood splattered His face and my knees threatened to buckle. No restraints, just the order to bend over and hang on.

I hold a position better with mental bondage. I think physical bondage gives me permission to fight it, simply because I know I can only move so far. But mental bondage requires strict adherence to the position. Is it any wonder then that I prefer physical bondage? It’s easier for me. I’m such a selfish whore.

If you can’t stand the sight of blood, you don’t want to go back here

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