I haven’t rambled in a while because I wanted to help my ex move on from me. That was well intended, and yet in doing so I realise that I left behind many of my audience members who still care about me and my life. I’m not going to ramble about too often, perhaps not more than once a week or so, and probably on a Saturday.
Things with Bill have generally gone from strength to strength. We have our moments, of course we do, and yet we can work through them without too much commotion. It helps when your partner is empathetic because you come to a place of understanding, you look at the problem objectively instead of seeing one another as the burden. Time is an issue for Bill and I, and yet even with so little of it, time doesn’t stop us from talking. We probably talk even more than we used to, and about anything and everything now. Oh, and did I mention that I get up at 7:30 from now on, giving me even longer to terrorise my Sir who will be stuck with his haemodialysis machine and unable to escape my wrath? I just know that he’ll be thrilled! 😉
It’s hard to believe that you can find common interests in a long-distance relationship, and yet we have. Bill and I love chai tea, we love walks and long-distance gardening is a thing. I had to chop some hedgerows and was going to put them off as not a priority, which Bill wouldn’t let me do. Even with some gentle nagging, I worked in a place of happiness and confort, feeling him with me, and that I was in some way owned by him. Even with some 100+ miles between us, we still have ways to feel connected.
Perhaps it is because of our mutual ailments then we find acceptance and love in one another. Bill knows how it is to tire, to struggle and to not be able to do everything in one day. “Spoons” we call them in the disabilities & chronic diseases community., and most days aren’t much more than two or three spoons, four if it’s a really good day.
I’ve used my spoons up for today, plumbing in a new dishwasher, adapting an old drawer unit (I turned it into a hideaway space for an ottoman) and pacing up and down the garden path. The pacing sounds like a bizarre behaviour, I do realise, and yet it’s a great way to get in 1000 steps on my breaks. Up and down the garden path I go, fifteen times in about twenty minutes. I have a little stomp at the end like a Coldstream Guard, protecting the only entryway into my home. It brings a little smile onto my face.
Of course, in recent times then that feels a little disrespectful, and yet I note to myself that the guards never left their duty. They never left, it’s just that the country is under a new momarch now. That’s still the most bizarre feeling.
After 34 years of having a Queen, we now have a King!
And, when you think about things, then we will continue to have a King, even after I perish. This is Britain now. This is my country.
Bill gives me some alarm when he refers to himself as a “sadist perfectionist”. I feel hopeless and I feel a fear that I may disappoint him, because I’m not perfect and I don’t try to be. I am what I am, which sounds like an adage that some of the most toxic people would say. What I mean to say is, I know that I’m not perfect, I have my flaws and I’m more than aware of them. I’m a perfectionist myself, but I’m trying not to be. I do my best to be nice to and patient with everyone and to overcome my weaknesses, and to be accepting of the weaknesses of others. I try to be a lot of things to a lot of different people and if my best still isn’t good enough then you don’t deserve me. I don’t mean that to Bill, I mean that to anyone. The only one who gets to judge us is the man at the other end of the long tunnel.
I saw a quote not too long ago which read “a brat is a submissive with spunk”, which I find to be quite correct. Brats are submissives with a bit more piquance, a bit more bite to our identities. I overheard someone say some many years ago that brats are undesirable as submissives, which is most certainly not true. Speaking from experience, then I know of at least two Dominant men who desire this proud brat very much. A brat is not necessarily your cup of tea, and that’s okay. To be perfectly honest, if you expect every order fulfilled immediately and without question then the chances are good that you’re not our cup of tea, either. Brats like to play and we like to wrestle, either with our words or with our bodies. We have strong minds and tissue paper hearts. Handle us roughly but love us softly, always.
Of course, my Inner Dom is quick to remind me of something that The Brotherhood would agree with:
“It’s more like, a brat is a submissive who wants spunk.”
I bite my lip and blush – sometimes I think I’m plenty good enough at degrading myself, even without their help.
“The Brotherhood” is the colloquial name that I gave to my two Alphas – my Daddy and my Sir. It’s unconfirmed, and yet it’s in how they are with one another and how they were the last time I saw them together. Almost a fraternal love with a common theme: Me, and their ownership (and public degradation) of me.
The last time I saw Bill, back in about 2018, we met for food at drinks at a resturant in central Bristol. As Bill began publicly degrading me, I sat there, almost entranced. I look to Matt for support or guidance and he was in on it too. I think I knew back then that something had changed, I just didn’t know how, or what.
I suppose you could say that The Brotherhood owns the sisterhood, except that the sisterhood is a little (okay, a lot) more divided. Bill has always been protective of me, but more like a nentor or a close friend, not a Dom
At least until now.
Just received a small Amazon package. I take it this is your doing? Cheeky girl!
I smile to myself – of course it’s my doing, of course it is. It’s kind of how I show love; a small gift here or a handwritten note there. Nothing huge, but little things that get noticed
I treated Bill to a copy of House of Maldona, one of my personal favourite Nexus books. In some ways then I supposed that it was for me like Story Of O or Gor might be for some others: It was an insight into a fantasy story that inspired and captivated me, a story of Alpha men and bisexual submissive women, and women who have to wrestle other women to reach higher status within the castle, or the House of Maldona. It is a story of a lesbian woman who enters a world unknown to her and… well, I wouldn’t want to ruin the story 😉
But in the story, Jane, who later becomes Jana, considers herself as “Jana of Maldona”, and in a similar way now then I consider myself to be of The Brotherhood. I belong to them, I am of them, of their protection and their rule of me. I am loved and accepted by The Brotherhood. I belong here.
Because at the end of the day, a brat doesn’t want to ignore all the rules, she just wants to know that her Dominant is strong enough to handle her in all her glory.