Brat

From Kinky.com:

“Brat is a term for the BDSM role of a bratty submissive or bottom. Unlike the common conception of a submissive, a brat talks back, misbehaves, and is otherwise difficult”.

I admit it.

While I am always keen to please, I also argue and talk  back. As far as Master is concerned, I am something of a brat.

Let’s be clear here, I don’t set out to disagree. But I have opinions and need to get them out there.

Trouble is, my opinions are not always wanted or needed and so I am labelled as a brat.

That does not mean I am not a slave. In essence, I always comply and follow the rules laid out. But it would also be true to say that I want to discuss what those rules are. Or else I am keen to know where boundaries lie.

He both loves and hates my approach to living within the boundaries already set out. He both wants my compliance and also wants me to challenge.

But he is my Master. So I really do want to strike a balance. Even when I am being the brat I crave correction. Unless of course there is no correction necessary.

Does that make me a brat?

His kinks and our plans

There are many ways in which we are on the same wavelength when it comes to kink. Being his owned slave is probably the main one. While I am naturally bratty and rebellious, I love the way that he takes control and keeps me within defined boundaries. I am at my happiest when the boundaries of our relationship are clearest to us both.

Pain as a way of him exerting control is important, but it is not the main thing. Control of our sex life, and the power it gives him is. He loves to catch me unawares and to suddenly tell me what to do – get on my knees, suck his cock, bend over, strip off. Whatever. He loves the gadgets of kink, the violet wand, the bindings and blindfolds. They have an amazing effect on me. I love the way in which he surprises me with new ideas, new toys. I love the control he has over me.

He loves tattoos and piercings.  He loves women to wear slutty clothes and to expose themselves in public. I have the piercings – nipples and clitoral hood. On occasion I wear something a bit slutty and am prepared to show myself to him in a public place.

Sometime over the past three years or so though we have settled into a comfortable place. We talk about more piercings, about tattoos. But they haven’t happened. In the main I don’t leave the house without underwear as I used to, and the times I expose myself in public has reduced in frequency.

Partly this is due to life – work, caring responsibilities, social life, being a middle aged couple (and any other excuse you might mention). In many ways, though it feels as though I have just become complacent and lazy. Also just a little tired as work and caring plus keeping up with our social life takes its toll.

A quick look at his Tumblr blog tells me however, that his kinky fantasies remain as they were. I have to admit they are mine too. I really do still want more piercings. I would love to walk around, knickerless with weights hanging from my labia. I would love to cut my hair as he really wants. I still want that tattoo. I want to be the slut he desires.

What I need to do is to take control of my life. Or to get into a position where he truly can take control of my life. We are still waiting for my ex to sort himself out. For he and his lady love to be ready to buy my house. We are close, but not quite there.

Meanwhile I really am planning my exit from work. Preparing myself, those around me and the work itself for that day. I have given myself a deadline of early March when I will hand in my notice. By then, my mum should be living nearer to my brother and be less of a burden to me. And I should be preparing to give myself to Master properly. If the ex isn’t ready by then, well something different will have to happen.

I want his kinks to be my kinks, but I need to make some changes here for that to happen. I have a plan, a real plan.

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Bratty

This girl is generally pretty well behaved. She has moments when she get’s stressed and anxious, but they are thankfully far and few between. When this girl and Master are together, this girl knows that she is free to express her views, to be who she is. Well this is true within limits, ones that He sets.

Master is in charge, He knows what He wants and knows His own mind.

Of course, all human beings need help and guidance as they are follow life’s often difficult journey. This girl has plenty of life experiences and likes to  share them. Sometimes girl’s views on how He should deal with issues are welcome and sometimes they are not. Sometimes, it is just about speaking out of turn, being a little too sarcastic. Or else saying something that Master is not yet ready to hear.

Whenever this girl oversteps the mark, in Master’s view, she is accused of being bratty. Of being unruly (whatever that is meant to mean). The funny thing is that the definition of brattiness changes from day to day, situation to situation. This girl hardly ever knows where she stands on these matters. She doesn’t know when her views will be welcomed and when, she is just being bratty.

Punishment for being bratty is not severe, perhaps it is a spanking. Or perhaps it is just being restrained, put into cuffs, a collar or harness. Sometimes it is a grin and a question “Are you being bratty?” A girl never knows.

Being described as bratty is, this girl believes a way of reminding her who she is and who He is. There is rarely consistency in what is defined at bratty or what the punishment for it should be, but then that is of course up to Him.

He is the master and makes the rules. No one says those rules have to be the same each time. Anyway, they certainly keep this girl on her toes.

Centred

Since getting back from holiday, life has been busy and stressful. Most of this stress has come from one particular place, or should I say person. I have never enjoyed the kind of relationship with my mum that either of us might have wanted. She always says it is because we are too similar, I sincerely hope that is not true since she is currently behaving very badly.

I know that the set back of the fractured hip was a big blow to her and has dented her confidence along with her hard fought for mobility. But it would be so nice if she could be at least pleasant about it. Instead myself and my brothers are being made to feel less than useful, despite spending so much of our time off from work running around doing things for her. Things came to a head at the beginning of this week when the cleaner gave her the sack. No, she didn’t sack the cleaner, it happened the other way round. By text, to me. Apparently she is rude, inconsiderate and two faced. These accusations are pretty much true,  but I never thought that she was like that with someone who comes in for an hour or two once a week. It would be true to say that the fact she is the friend of my brother’s girl friend might have contributed, but I really didn’t need this kind of stress this week.

Friday is now my regular day off and they now stretch ahead of me as a day when I will be needing to help mum. I should be keen to help of course, I want to be and to a certain extent I am. But at the same time, I dread it. The harsh words, the way she is only interested in herself, and the way everything I and everyone else does is just not good enough. This week was no exception, and culminated in a number of short sharp phone messages because I had bought her the kind of fish that I should know that she hates!

A few times this last week I have been a bit on the bratty side with Master. That and I have challenged things He has said and done. This is something that He doesn’t like; particularly if like me the other person is hell bent on arguing the point for far too long.

So after a great day out on Saturday – a girlie lunch, a film and dinner with Master – I ended up passing much of the journey home fuming. I was both upset and angry and still believed I was right.

In bed, He held me and told me He was sorry and that He had noticed that I have been much more stressed lately. I said sorry too and all was well, we slept.

Sunday morning arrived and as we lay in bed together there was no sign of what was to come. He suddenly jumped out of bed and told His slave to get on all fours, then He piled up some pillows for her to lie on and secured her wrists in cuffs by her ankles. A mixture of pain and pleasure then ensued. The pleasure of the hitachi and the pain of various floggers, paddles and a cane. Every time the pain seemed to be getting a little much back came the hitachi and with it an orgasm was permitted.

He instructed this girl to get on top and to ride His cock. This is a favourite position for both of us. He likes to have access to His slave’s body and to control her movements from below. Next He took her arse. Boy did He take this girl in a way He really hasn’t for a long time.

For both of us this was as much about redefining the whole Master / slave relationship as anything. It was about His power and her submission. For the first time in months this girl found herself floating into His body. She felt her mind clearing and all thoughts of anyone and anything else leave her. She was His slave and He her Master. Lastly she was allowed to finish Him off with her mouth, a perfect ending for us both.

It is so easy in any relationship for life to just take over and for couples to forget the important things.  Thankfully Master recognised the signs and now His slave is centred again and remembers just who she is, what she is and indeed her place.

Of course, none of this makes me wrong, or Him right but sometimes a slave just needs to know when to shut her mouth and I definitely need practice at that!