Quid pro quo, Clarice
I’ve been thinking about the notion of ’quid pro quo’ as was mentioned in the comment section a few posts ago. In a way, that’s definitely how things work for me. For us.
It’s not *exactly* how we work though. ’Quid pro quo’ generally refers to an equal exchange and things here certainly are not always equal, but there is an exchange of services. It’s not always perfectly balanced. And it’s not as simple as “well, okay Master, now that I’ve sucked your dick, you have to give me my reward.” because that sort of direct approach might earn me something all right, but it sure as fuck would not be a reward. ;-)
It’s much more subtle than that. It *is* an expectation. I expect to get some payback for the “services” that I provide, even if the payback is nothing more than a pat on the head and a “good girl”. What I don’t expect is nothing. What I don’t ACCEPT is nothing.
Maybe it’s because I value myself more than I should for being just a lowly cunt object. Maybe I have an over-inflated sense of entitlement. But regardless of the reason, I’m in it with the expectation of getting something in return.
I’ve likened this before to getting paid. You wouldn’t continue to work for your boss if he neglected to pay you. That’s a very non-romantic way to look at the quid pro quo-ness of O/c (Owner/cunt instead of M/s :D ) but it’s easily understood I think. I don’t draw a paycheck from Master but I do get “paid” all the same.
I get attention. I get pain. I get random acts of depravity. I also get love and companionship and friendship. Intermittent periods of being ignored, being left to wallow in want and need, moments of isolation and moments of more ’attention’ than I really bargained for (grin). I get sex and lots of orgasms balanced out with times of being used as a sex object without regard to my sexual needs.
All of that, plus more, is my payback for providing services for Him. I don’t do those services with a pure heart or out of some bottomless well of kindness. I don’t do them because they make ME feel good. I do them, generally with a grin and a beating heart, because I know I’m *earning* something nasty. Something wicked this way comes.
Lots of times that balance leans heavily on my part (I think). I provide much more service than I get paid for. We don’t have a pay scale set up. Nothing as cut and dried as getting two swats for doing the dishes or anything like that. It’s definitely done entirely at his want and discretion. There might be a month of no pay at all while I continue on with my merry maid service (and merry slut service), and then perhaps a weekend of reward. Or, he might spread the reward out evenly for several days. What I can bank on (pun intended) is knowing that at some point in time, he will balance the scale out. One night of intense play can very well carry me for two months of service.
There are times, though, when the well runs dry. When service is no longer this well-oiled machine, but begins to grate and clang and scrape on dry bearings. Payout can be few and far between when the mood strikes him (or doesn’t strike him, as the case may be) and I react to that. I am not expected to timelessly carry on as if I am still getting paid. I am not expected to draw on some internal sense of submission to continue on without his input. Though I understand that the scales tip heavily on me, at some point it will topple over and come crashing down if he doesn’t provide some counter balance.
The important thing is that he understands that too. He knows I’m not built to run on nothing. So whatever it is that he wants from me in terms in service depend entirely on what he is willing to pay out.
That seems at odds with my other strongly held belief that a Master is not required or obligated to provide any sort of service for his property. It’s not though. I don’t, for one second, think that Master is obligated to pay me or use me or reward me for anything. And there are times, many many many times, when he doesn’t. When he watches me hit bottom, and enjoys it. Because I don’t promptly demand my quid pro quo. I do my best to get it when it’s doled out and to make do with whatever reserves I have. I will spin on rusty gears for a long time before imploding.. and he likes that. A lot.
So what would happen should he choose to let me continue working on a dry well? If he chose to never reward me again? I don’t know. Maybe I would find that elusive place of creating happiness out of nothing. Maybe I would sink into a chemical depression due to sudden withdrawal of endorphins and adrenaline. Maybe I would lose all inclinations for power exchange and masochism. Maybe someday I’ll find out. Some days I think I’m very close to finding out. We go through some wicked dry spells now and then.
But I keep the faith that we’re still operating under the quid pro quo guidelines. I perform my services and he’ll give me my reward for doing so. I expect it to continue in this vein for quite some time. I’m involved with someone who is invested in my future, forever. What we do together has to please both of us. For now.
I don’t think that will last forever though. Keeping the balance now is necessary, one day it won’t be. We’ll see what I think of quid pro quo then. :D
~cunt
Edit: I almost forgot. Master read my quitting post.
Sometimes, I think I write something really profound and I hop around impatiently waiting for him to read it and I just know he’s going to get all excited and agree with my profoundedness.. and then he just doesn’t. He just… doesn’t. At all. He just says “you didn’t quit.. so quit THIS… and you’ll still call me Master or Sir. Understand?” and that’s it. Like.. I feel so dismissed. *pathetic sigh*
Tags: M/s rambles
pictures | kaya | 
Thursday February 21st, 2008 12:11pm | 
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