Learning more about bondage is a game for two people, and the person who gets tied up should know as much as the person doing the tying.

I gave aria two bondage “tutorial” videos, and told her to review them. For fun and extra credit, I included the following questions:

1. What are the basic safety precautions?
2. What are the most common problems while being in bondage? What to look out for?
3. Where not to tie rope on the body?
4. What is Lew Ruben’s “5 minute rule”?
5. What is a two column tie and what can you do with it?
6. What kind of rope carries the highest risk of rope burns?

(Click here to see the other assignments I posted)

Both aria and I enjoy the blog Sexual Dynamics: Memoirs of a Discerning Dom a lot. I wanted to know what exactly she likes most from that blog, so I sent her the following assignment:

As you’ve been reading through that one Dominant’s weblog anyway, I want you to pick out several sentences that seem especially true to you. You don’t have to limit yourself to any particular article. As long as you feel it provides special value, copy it over. Try to pick at least five and include some context. Comment if necessary.

(Click here to see the other assignments I posted)

Assignment: What thoughts do you immediately associate with the following words?

• fear
• doubt
• kneel
• submit
• deprivation
• choice
• happiness
• responsible
• brainwash
• collar
• pain
• tears
• complete
• rules
• feelings
• love
• accountability
• isolation
• authority
• punishment
• (personal) boundaries
• satisfaction
• control
• humiliation
• freedom
• slave
• goals
• behavior
• forgiveness
• respect
• consistency
• brattiness
• lecture
• assignments :)

This is a list that I found in SubmissiveGuide.com’s Journal Prompts. I added a handful of words.

The idea is that the submissive reads a word from the list, and then immediately writes down a related word or thought that comes to mind.

(Click here to see the other assignments I posted)

17.12.20 / I spent the last two days writing an analysis of a 21-page article on speech and language disorders that I had no interest in. I will die if I cannot finish it today. Wish me luck

Yi

I’m still technically on tumblr break but I got to draw a dinosaur for my latest assignment so of course I’m gonna go hard with it

Two more things from my animal drawing class. They are friends.

Last night on Skype, Reaction Junkie asked me how hard it is for me to carry on conversation when I have something in my holes. Thinking that he wanted me to fuck myself with a dildo while we talked, I thought back to all the times I’d Skyped with The Super Sadist and Marxman while fucking myself. I told him that having something in me wasn’t very distracting.

“Good,” he said. Then he asked, “How long can you wear a plug for? Can you wear a buttplug for eight hours?” I hemmed and hawed until he finally said, “Can. You. Wear. A. Plug. For. Eight. Hours?” “Yes, dear,” I responded, looking down. He smiled at me and informed me, “You’ll be wearing your plug for eight hours at work tomorrow.”

I was happy to do so, and said that it might even be helpful, since I’m seeing Legolas today and plan to be prepared for anal. Reaction Junkie thought for a moment and said, “Well, maybe you should have something in your cunt, too.” I wasn’t sure and said, “I don’t know if I have anything that will stay in.” “That depends how tight your underwear is, doesn’t it?” he responded. I agreed, and he informed me that I would keep my small dildo in my pussy during work, and when I leave for happy hour tonight, I’m to switch it to a larger one.

I smiled, despite knowing it could get uncomfortable. He hasn’t given me many, if any orders like this, that last for an extended time and provide a constant reminder of my place, and I really enjoy them. I lovelovelove our switchy dynamic, and wouldn’t change it. However, it does lend itself to a reduction in the time I spend feeling properly subby, since I feel as though I could take control at any moment. Of course, realistically I know that he owns me, that he’s in charge, that he enjoys bottoming and the feel of submitting so he allows me to play at that role, but I don’t always feel that truth on a deeper level. Sometimes I miss falling into submission like I used to, that heady feeling of being controlled, the fuzzy warmth of being owned.

With this instruction, to have two of my holes filled all day, I can feel a bit of that old subby headspace coming back, especially as I write this. It’s intoxicating and makes me want to think more subby thoughts. I want to be obedient and fulfill the orders given to me. The large dildo may be uncomfortable, but I’m not going to ask for him to change his orders. I risk public humiliation if someone notices or if the dildo slips out. That doesn’t matter. I’m going to do what he told me to do. Because I don’t have a choice. When he says to do something, I do it. Property doesn’t get to refuse, doesn’t get to haggle or negotiate.

So, I’m going to sit all day at my desk, my cunt soaked from being filled. Not only from that, of course, I’m also wet from the knowledge that two of my holes are stuffed at the direction of my owner and that I’m willing to obey him at all times, even at work. And I’m happy to do it. I’m grateful that he is willing to spend the time and attention on me to give an order like this. I’m glad for the reminder of my real place as owned property.

I can pretend to be an independent person. Can say that I have my own job, my own apartment, my own life. But coming to work with a dildo in my cunt and a plug in my ass proves that in actuality, I’m an obedient, eager to please, desperate girl who craves giving up that independence in order to submit and be controlled. To give up ownership of myself to be owned by someone else.

When I Skyped with MLAM a week or so ago, we were discussing what exactly the rules will be when I start up using the dildos to train my ass again. I gave heartfelt plea about the large dildo and the fact that it would take lots of time and effort, which got me mostly silence and “What did you think would come from this?” I’d hoped he might not make me use it, but I’d thought he’d at least change up something. He did, thankfully. I’ll get a week with the smaller one to start preparing myself. I then asked for clarification on when the timer starts and stops. He told me “It starts when you start trying to put it in, and it stops half an hour later.” I asked, “What if I take it out?” and he said “Well, if you stop to get mac n’ cheese and watch an episode of the wire….” and told me to “use [my] judgment.” I agreed that I could handle that, and he said “And you have very good judgment” in my decision making regarding my submission, which made me blush and look away. MLAM told me to write a post on my judgment and decision-making as part of my submission. This is that post.

As his toy, I don’t actually decide -if- I’m going to follow his instructions. However, I do have to make some decisions and use good judgment. There are four kinds of judgment- and decision-making I engage in as part of my submission to him. The first kind I use when I’m trying to determine what to do. The second comes into play as I attempt to comply with the orders I’ve been given. The third is needed when determining if it is appropriate or intelligent to ask for an exception or change in the orders I’ve been given. And the fourth I use when I decide to offer him something of my own volition, without explicit instructions.

Type I

I engage the first type when I have an order (or assignment or punishment), and run into a situation that wasn’t clearly covered in the initial wording, or that could change the overall impact of the order in a way he didn’t intend. Of course, my first instinct is always to ask him for clarification. I used to feel bad about asking for clarification too much, but now I know that it’s good for me to ask. He likes me to ask. And sometimes asking alleviates unnecessary guilt I have. For instance, when I was writing the first four hundred words of this post, which was the amount he told me to write every day until I finished, I got home late that night and then frittered away time masturbating and talking to friends. I realized it was almost midnight, and I hadn’t written any of this, aside from a few notes here and there. I considered whether or not he meant “per day” as in before midnight, or before sleep. I decided that he probably meant before sleep, since midnight doesn’t really set a good dividing line for a day, especially when you’re a night person. But I also decided that I wanted to finish before midnight. I thought, “If I finish before midnight, I know for sure I’m doing what he wanted, even if there is actually more flexibility than that.” Well, long story short, I got distracted doing another thing for him, and by midnight, I was two words short. Even though that was a deadline I’d set myself, and I was only two words away from what he wanted, I felt guilty. (Thanks, Catholic guilt. You’ve been bizarrely useful in this relationship.) The next day, I did ask for my clarification on what “day” meant. He confirmed my assumption, that it meant before I go to bed, which alleviated my guilt, although I still feel bad that I didn’t stick to what I’d decided to do for him.

When I ask for clarifications, I often can guess what the answer will be, because (I like to think) I have a good understanding of the way his mind works, especially in relation to the dynamic we’ve developed. Of course, I’m not always going to like his answer. When I’m deciding if I should ask for a clarification, I often consider how I will react if the answer is something I don’t like. For instance, when discussing the thirty minutes a day with a dildo anal training, I wondered if I would just have to sit there in silence and focus only on fucking my ass with the toy, or if I could watch Netflix while I worked on making myself a better anal slut. I hesitated, and then asked. I dreaded his answer. If I hadn’t asked, it would have been open-ended, and I could have watched something while doing it. By asking, I nearly guaranteed that I wouldn’t be allowed to watch something or listen to music while working on my ass. He may not have thought of that as part of the original assignment, but when I present an opportunity for him to make my life more difficult, or to focus me on my submission, expecting him not to take that opportunity would be stupid.

Of course I asked anyway. I consider how I would react to an undesirable clarification, and then I ask anyway. Even if the answer turns out to be what I’m dreading (and really, it usually is. Clarifications usually are neutral or make my life more difficult.), I should still ask. If there is a way to submit further by taking on an increasingly unpleasant assignment, I should be eager to do so, to prove my level of commitment and the depth of my submission to my owner. Having thought of a way to do those things, if I don’t ask for a clarification and give him a chance to make my life harder, I’m denying some level of control over me by taking advantage of him not having accounted for something, or not having thought of a given way I should be submitting.

Although asking for clarification is always acceptable, there are wrong ways and right ways to do that. One of the most regrettable instances of poor judgment I’ve had was while discussing the anal training with the dildo. I asked if I would be allowed to use lube, which would be a perfectly reasonable question. But I didn’t just ask. For some reason, I was sassy, and I said “You’re going to let me use lube, right? Because I’m going to use lube.” One of the dumbest things I’ve said in a long while. Because he’s wonderful and kind and generous, MLAM did allow me to use lube, but only sputum. I learned my lesson about how to ask things that day, and I think more carefully about how and what I ask now.

Of course, it isn’t always possible or reasonable for me to ask him for a clarification. Sometimes it’s late or he’s busy and there’s some sort of time component. In these instances, I have to use my judgment and make good choices. The first thing I consider is if there is something clear and obvious that will ensure I’m definitely following instructions. For example, when I was instructed to write 400 words of this post each day until I was done with it, that could mean that so long as I write 400 words that are supposed to be for this post, I’m complying with instructions, even if it’s rewriting things. However, it could also mean that I needed to write 400 new words, not just rewrite old ones. Instead of asking for a clarification here, I decided to take the second interpretation. Not all of the words may be used in this final product (especially not without some editing), as I intend to make sure it all flows together as much as possible, but I wanted to interpret the instructions in a way that would ensure that I definitely followed what he wanted.

If there isn’t something immediately obvious, I next consider if there is something I could do that would address the issue, while also making my life more difficult. One instance of this occurred when I was being punished and had to sleep naked on the floor and I got my period. I’m not a fan of tampons over night, and even if I were, tampons alone sometimes leak. My carpet is not a colour period blood stains would blend in with. The last time I’d been punished that way and had my period, MLAM had allowed me to wear panties. However, that was a couple weeks prior, and our dynamic had shifted even in that short amount of time, and I felt like I should ask him if I could wear them. However, by the time I realized I had my period, it was 4am. I didn’t expect to get a response. I wanted to avoid blood stains on the carpet, but also didn’t want to fuck up, both out of fear of punishment, and because every action I take related to MLAM has the singular goal of pleasing him. I decided that putting the panties on would not be a good way to go, even if the goal was avoiding bloodstains, not increasing my comfort. Instead, I chose to sleep on the kitchen floor, even though it is not as comfortable as my carpeted floor. I thought that would please him. Not only did I not put on clothes, I slept on the kitchen floor, and wore a tampon to bed, which I don’t like doing. I’m finally beginning to learn that, when in doubt, go with the option that makes my life more difficult.

I don’t always have good judgment of this type, however. The worst example I can think of occurred while I was using the new silver shoes to masturbate so that I could earn wearing them as part of my first date outfit. I initially told MLAM that I didn’t think I’d be able to get off with them, so I might not end up masturbating every day. He told me that I had to try at least three times a day to get off. Well, the first time I tried with the shoe, I managed to get of fairly easily. I texted MLAM and asked him if I still had to try to get off with the shoe at least three times a day, since I knew I could. He never got back to me, but I thought I’d understood his thought process that led to the instruction, so I made an independent decision. Big mistake. I shouldn’t have imagined I understood what he wanted, when he’d given an exact order. There was no need for me to try to figure out the right thing to do, since he’d already told me. But I thought I knew better. Of course, that got me a punishment. As he said, not responding to the text was an oversight on his part. And I would be punished for it.

I believe that I’ve improved in this kind of judgment and decision-making from earlier in our relationship. I still do ask for clarifications if something is unclear, of course. But if the vagueness is around a small aspect of an instruction, I do my best to figure out if there is a clear solution without bothering him. I like to think that I’ve gotten somewhat of a handle on the way he thinks about the dynamic we have within our relationship, plus, the dynamic has evolved and expanded into ever increasing aspects of my life, which gives me additional context to figure out what to do. Submission and being owned and doing my best to please him and do what he wants have gone from something fun that I do occasionally to something that I’ve accepted as my proper role in life. He’s my owner, and I belong to him. Being able to sink into that mindset allows me to think better about what to do, and encourages me to make decisions that will make my life harder while ensuring I’m living up to what he wants me to do.

Type II

I use the second kind of judgment while I’m trying to follow orders I’ve been given, whether rules on how to live day to day, a particular assignment, or the rules of a punishment. First of all, I have to make good life choices that will make it possible for me to follow his instructions. And then, when I’m following those instructions, I have to do the best I can to do exactly what he meant by them, and not play the rules lawyer. I’m not very good at the “making good life choices” part, yet. I tend to do what I was planning to do, and then fit assignments and punishments around that, which usually means I cut into my sleep. Cutting into my sleep means I’m not taking good care of his property. I should be more willing to cancel any plans I’ve made if I have something to accomplish for him. Like writing this, for example. There were a number of nights I intended to finish writing this once and for all, but then going out and doing other things, instead of prioritizing what he wanted from me. Writing this helped me realize that is a problem I have that I need to fix if I’m going to become the best little feminist toy for him that I possibly can be.

I can’t actually think of an illustrative example of a time I was good about making plans to incorporate his instructions, although I know I have done so a handful of times. If that’s not clear evidence that I need to work on that, I don’t know what is.

I’m somewhat better at the other aspect of this, which is doing what he wants me to do. I should be following the spirit of the instructions, not just the letter of the law. I have previously displayed horrible judgment for when trying to comply with punishments, on several occasions. The first that springs to mind was during the punishment I received where I had to sleep on the floor, naked, no pillow, no blanket. I did this one night and woke up in the middle of the night, cold and shivering. I made a poor decision and climbed into bed. I just wanted to be warm for a little while. I had every intention of getting up again and going back to the floor. Then I fell asleep, probably. It wasn’t for long, and I honestly I’m not 100% certain I did fell asleep. But I’d put myself into a situation where it was easy, entirely possible, and likely, that I fell asleep in bed with a blanket and pillow. My judgment was not at all sound in that case. Of course I felt guilty and texted him as soon as I woke up. I felt really awful, and couldn’t believe that I’d managed to fuck up so easily. The next night, I stayed at Legal Lolita’s place. She offered me a blanket to sleep on, and noted a couple ways I could rules lawyer myself into being warmer. Being a brat isn’t my bag, though. I took the blanket to sleep on, per her request to not sleep directly on her floor. Before going to sleep, I realized that sleeping on top of the blanket would be too tempting, so I decided not to use it. Legal Lolita’s apartment was super cold that night, and I woke up in the middle of the night, shivering. I took the blanket she’d intended me to sleep on top of and wrapped it around myself. Now, here I showed some evidence of the ability to make good judgments, because I stood up with the blanket around my body. I wasn’t going to repeat the same mistake two nights in a row. I swayed back and forth, unsteady on my feet, wanting to be asleep, but also wanting to be warm. I got tired of standing, but it was still too cold to take the blanket off, so I made a poor choice and sat down on a chair. I was just going to be “just a minute” again, and then I was shaking myself. Again, I can’t be sure if I just stopped myself from falling asleep with a blanket around me, or if I was waking up from being more asleep. Either way, I felt another wave of guilt and shame. I’d managed to fuck up again. I did manage to do the right thing for the last opportunity to do so, and texted MLAM as soon as I realized I could have fucked up. I was, of course, punished for failing to follow instructions for the second night in a row.
One example of me doing a good job with complying occurred when I was under instructions to masturbate only with the silver shoes for a week in order to earn the right to wear them on first dates. I wanted to comply with the spirit of that, so I tried not to just rub my clit through the shoes. I even initially started out not putting my fingers in the shoe, and instead simply gripped the outside and ground it into my cunt. By the end, I was close to not finishing an assignment Boy Genius had given me, so I did adjust and put my fingers in the shoe. I still didn’t simply rub my clit through the fabric, though. I used my fingers to move the toe back and forth. When I found it getting too easy, I’d curl my fingers up to make sure I wasn’t rubbing my clit with them. I didn’t want to make my life too easy, because I was getting a special privilege in getting to change the shoes I wear with my first date outfit.
Another instance in which I exhibited what I think is very good judgment while fulfilling a punishment was during a different “sleep on the floor” punishment. MLAM kindly allowed me to earn the right to a blanket so that I would have a chance to complete the punishment without fucking up, since we’d learned that when I’m cold, my judgment goes right out the window. My read on the situation was that he had given me this blanket for warmth, and that’s it. My carpet isn’t awful, but it’s slightly scratchy. If I’d wrapped the blanket around myself, I would have been very comfortable. Nothing he had said made me think there was a clear rule about if I could do this, but I chose to err on the side of over-complying with the rule. I did not wrap myself in the blanket, or sleep on top of it. I even went so far as to always move it out from under me if I found myself on top of it. Perhaps I was over-thinking it and being on top of the blanket would have been fine, but I’d much rather go to silly lengths to comply with what MLAM intended with a given instruction or rule, as opposed to doing things and then finding out that I’d violated what he’d meant for me to do. My aim is to follow his orders, always.

Type III

The third type of judgment- and decision-making involves me asking for exceptions or changes to instructions. Obviously, any time I am asking for an exception or change, I’d better hope he thinks I have a good reason, because objects don’t generally get a say in what happens to them. My personal discomfort does not normally count as a good reason, of course. Negatively impacting other people might be a legitimate reason to ask for an exception or change, as might impossible or very complicated logistics. For instance, when I had the instruction to train my ass with a dildo for 30 minutes every day, originally he told me that if I was sleeping at someone else’s place, I should just go do it in their bathroom. After thinking about this, I told him that I didn’t feel okay with disappearing for half an hour while hanging out with people, or staying up late to do it in their bathroom. He was nice enough to say that I didn’t have to do it while staying with other people, which I really appreciated. Not all of my friends are kinky (well, kinky in similar ways to me), and it seems inappropriate somehow to abandon them while spending time together, or to use their bathroom for my sex life, especially if I’d be taking it up for so long. I also got an exception for difficult logistics when I was driving from one friend’s place to another’s, an hour or so away. I might possibly have been able to go home in between and do it, but it would have made logistics very difficult and stressful. I asked for an exception in instances where it would be very difficult to get home and do the training, noting that I wouldn’t abuse that exception to make my life easier in situations where it wasn’t necessary, and that if I did, I’d feel guilty and confess. He agreed to this change, as well.

I like to think I’m improving in this area in that I’m asking for fewer changes or exceptions. I used to engage this more often, before I was as well trained as I am now. MLAM started out granting exceptions or changes not super frequently, exactly, but also not rarely. Then he started refusing more often, and now I ask much less often. For instance, when MLAM told me that I wouldn’t be having any more orgasms until he sees me, I noted to him that I had a playdate set up with someone. In the past, I might have asked for an exception, thinking that it could be seen as part of being useful to other men. This time, however, I made sure to be clear that I was just letting him know because I thought he would be interested/like knowing that he was messing with a play relationship. I did not ask for a change in the instruction, even when Crayola cancelled because of the orgasm restriction. I shouldn’t be needing to ask for exceptions, because I should plan to follow his orders. And if I do violate the orders, I know and accept that I deserve whatever punishment he decides on.

Type IV

Finally, there’s a fourth kind of decision making that I employ when I decide to do things for MLAM that he has only suggested, or maybe even hasn’t mentioned. I make the decision to behave in ways I think would please him, whether he will ever know that I did it or not. My primary goal in life is to please my owner. He may loan me out to any man he wants, but at the end of the day, everything I do with other men, I do because I know it pleases him to see me live as the little slut I am. Sometimes he’ll mention something he likes, but not give a command, sometimes he has preferences that aren’t orders, and sometimes I know there’s some little thing I could do that would make him happy. And I that’s the thing I should choose to do, even if he wont ever know.

The main instance of this in my life has been the change in the way I dress. Originally, MLAM had said he didn’t want to change my personal style, but not only was that earlier in the development of our relationship, before I understood that I’m just a toy for him to play with, but also, I’m eager to please and I want to do things that make me attractive to the most men as possible, since that’s the primary way I have value. I used to be a girl whose primary footwear was Birkenstocks and chucks with my tight miniskirts with pockets. MLAM chose more feminine attire for me when we were together. Flats and heels instead of chucks and Birkenstocks, and floofly skirts that can be blown up by a bit of wind. These days, whenever I’m making a decision about an outfit, I think “I should be more feminine” and “Would MLAM like this if I wore it for him?” Since that began, I’ve only worn my chucks a handful of times, and even fewer times to an actual outing. I want to dress in feminine clothes that he would like to see on me. Not because he dislikes my old personal style, which was a bit more andro, and much less feminine, but because he wants to feminize me, to control me, to change me.

Another example involves something a bit more difficult and a lot less socially acceptable. When MLAM had me give myself some bruises with a pen with a cap, I asked him if I could keep them until he gave me some himself. He seemed quite pleased with that request, and I’ve kept them up diligently. It’s not exactly easy to maintain bruises on oneself for more than a month, but I’ve been doing it. The past week or two, whenever I go to the bathroom at work, I take a pen with me and grind the cap into the three different bruises I’ve left on my upper right thigh. It makes me happy to have something I have to pay such attention to, and that is so visible and can be used by other men to hurt me.

I think the thing I’m most happy with in terms of this kind of judgment is that I decided to offer MLAM something to add to the fact that I’m not allowed to orgasm until he sees me. I was thinking about the restriction, and reading some posts about edging on tumblr, and got to thinking. Not masturbating isn’t a super difficult thing for me. I didn’t masturbate for a large chunk of my life, and even now, when I was super stressed during grad school, I could go weeks without getting off. It won’t leave me panting and desperate to not masturbate for a week, or even longer. I started thinking about edging, and decided that I would offer to him that I would edge for a while every day, which would actually leave me desperate by the time we’re together. I’d hoped this would be an offer he liked. It was. In fact, offering that, in combination with how well I’d reacted to him having an effect on a play relationship, led to him asking “Would you like something in particular for doing so well?” I don’t know that I’ve been offered a reward before. Of course I appreciated the offer, and did have a request, but really, the only reward I need is the knowledge that I’ve pleased him, and a “good girl” from him.

I want to improve my judgement and decision-making in all of these areas so that I can be better for MLAM. Pleasing him is my primary motivation, and my main purpose. I know that I need a lot of work in some of these areas, and I intend to put in the time and effort required to continue being entertaining for him, to continue being of use so that he keeps me around.

I haven’t been feeling very owned lately, so I’ve been disobeying Reaction Junkie more frequently, often forgetting my role and refusing to do what he tells me to, resisting his commands, and complaining about his orders. We’ve both been super busy and stressed preparing for our move this coming Saturday, so hasn’t had any extra time or energy to invest in our d/s dynamic to make me feel owned, and I haven’t had the resources to put in the extra time and energy I’d need to keep myself in line better and remind myself that he owns me. He told me that after we move, he’ll be able to work on the d/s with me more, and I know I’ll be better able to remind myself of my place, especially if he sets up some reoccurring tasks, assignments, and rules.

In the meantime, he did add a couple of things. In addition to having to get on my knees and help him take his shoes off when we get in the door, now every morning I have to crawl and bring him his shoes to put on. Also, on Saturday, while we were packing, he told me that for the rest of the day, I couldn’t just call to him from another room, asking for permission to pee. Instead, I had to come over to him each time so he could test how badly I had to go by pressing on my bladder. I’m going to keep doing that, both at home and while we’re out, even though he said it was for just that day.

Finally, I now have to post at least one picture a day on tumblr. It can’t be the same thing everyday. Some days a body shot, some days a tit pic, some days a cunt picture, some days a close up of a bruise, etc. And underneath the picture, I need to write something that will help me remember that he owns me, that I owe him my obedience, that I’m his to use as he will, that he has control over me, that I should happily do what he tells me, and so on. I think the daily picture will be especially helpful to remind me that I am an owned little feminist bitch.

When I last Skyped with The Super Sadist (That was an intense session that involved him and Marxman and lasted about ten hours. There’s plenty to be said about it, but I wanted to share this bit first), he told me, “I think you should write dumber.” I balked a little, since I don’t want to make this blog unreadable for you folks, and we decided that I wouldn’t do it for lengthy pieces of writing, or, of course, for work. Primarily, I’m doing it when I text friends and partners. I’ll also try to write some more short things on here, so y’all can see how dumb I am.

It’s just little things, for now. He gave a couple examples: “u” instead of “you,” to/too mixups, things like that. I added a few more, such as your/you’re mixups, using the wrong its/it’s, their/there/they’re confusion, and using as many abreves as possible. These aren’t major changes, but they’re things my friends would notice, and things that bother me a lot when I fuck up by accident.

He was understanding and is letting me not do it with people I can’t or shouldn’t explain the instructions to, but really, I can’t think of many people I talk to regularly who I couldn’t tell about it. Actually, I may not explain it to everyone. I sent a text to Legolas prior to explaining it where I used “u” instead of “you” and used the incorrect “too.” It was intensely uncomfortable, even physically so. And it turned me on. A lot. (Oh fuck. I should probably start using “alot” instead. That’s going to be painful.)

So, I was already sounding stupid when I was texting people yesterday. Then, when I was talking with my owner (Who, by the way, when I asked if the dumb texting would bother him and offered not to do it with him if it would, replied “lol. Yeah, no, you’re not doing that with me.”), I confessed that I hadn’t followed a direct order he’d given me to finish an assignment. The consequence for that is another language rule. For the next week, in the same places where I’m writing dumber, I am not allowed to use the letter “f.” In addition, any time I have to stop and think about how to rephrase a sentence to avoid it, I have to insert the word “like.”

I was texting under those rules for a few hours yesterday and I sound fucking…well, I’d say “dumb” or “silly” or “ridiculous” or “stupid,” but I know the word The Super Sadist would use is “retarded.” I sound fucking retarded*.

*It causes me great distress to throw around this word like that. I haven’t used it casually, especially as an insult, in years. It even bothers me when The Super Sadist does it, just in general conversation. So, of course, he’s taken to using it frequently in reference to me. During our last conversation, he asked me about my dislike of it, listened to what I had to say, and then said, “Tell me you’re retarded.” I could tell what fun it was for him to see my refusal turn to reluctance turn to resignation turn to incredibly uncomfortable obedience as I sighed, whinced, and said, “I’m retarded.”

Found out this evening that I got an 89 on my second Therapeutics exam. This was a lot higher than I was expecting, after talking about it with my friends I felt that I messed up on some questions. But it turns out I must’ve been right. And the average was only 74% so I’m wayyy above that. So I calculated my grade going into the final exam next month and I’ll only need a 62 or something like that to get an A! I feel like my study methods are really starting to pay off for me!

In my 3 other graded classes, I have an A in 2 and a high B in the third. So we have one more “final assignment” left in the one I have the B in, so I’m hoping to do a good job on that one so I can inch up into the A. As for the others, I hope to maintain those averages.

I should’ve done some work tonight when I got home but I pushed it off because I was talking to my sister about her university courses. Oh well, I’ll just use all day tomorrow and the rest of the weekend. I’ll have a busy day tomorrow!

Chapter 21: Preparations

The next few days were a whirlwind as Cicero prepared for our journey to Sicily. First, he met at length with Sosethius, Heraclieus and Epicrates, who would provide letters of introduction to help Cicero gain the confidence of the many Sicilians who had already submitted written testimony in the case.

An acquaintance of Cicero’s, Lucius Calpurnius Piso, cognominated Frugi, offered the services of his son to help with baggage and manage any materials or documents we collected. In exchange, Cicero agreed to help strengthen the young man’s rhetorical skills, for he wished to become an advocate. Relieved for the extra hand, he sent young Gaius Calpurnius Piso Frugi ahead to Ostia to book passage for the party to Messana.

Quintus, in the meantime, helped to arrange for accommodations and plan our itinerary. We would make a grand tour of the island, stopping in virtually every city to talk with the locals, collect evidence and recruit the many witnesses Cicero hoped would make the trip to Rome to testify.

All this would take money, however, and while Cicero’s law practice was finally earning him a small income through legacies, property gifts and in-kind payments that would not violate the senate’s membership qualifications, it did not generate enough coin to cover the expenses of such a case – which could easily reach 100,000 sesterces. Argue over it as he and Quintus did, Cicero could only see one possible source of funds.

Terentia, of course, used the request as yet another way of belittling her husband, but eventually relented, giving him an advance of 50,000 sesterces – exactly half the amount he had requested.

“We shall have to be thrifty,” he told Quintus and I after leaving her sitting room. “While I have no doubt my wife would not deny me more money if needed, I do not relish the thought of asking for it, and we will not only need to complete our tour of Sicily, but pay transportation and lodging costs for any witnesses who agree to testify for us here in Rome.”

Yet even when the final preparations for our journey had been made, Cicero slowed down not a bit, calling a final meeting of his inner council on the eve of our departure. Sitting comfortably in the triclinium after an early dinner, Cicero assigned everyone their tasks.

“I believe we are ready to depart,” Cicero said. “Tiro and I will leave at dawn for Ostia, where we will meet young Frugi and his party before setting sail for Messana. We shall endeavor to be gone no longer than seventy days, if possible, but much will depend on what we find there.”

“And while you are gone?” Servius Sulpicious asked. “What would you have us do?”

“I was coming to that, old friend,” Cicero said, nodding.

“My first task is for Quintus, who I ask to manage my campaign for the aedileship,“ he said, turning to his brother. "Work with the guilds, host dinners and schedule appearances at all of the largest crossroads colleges. I have always had a lot of support among the head count – especially in Subura – but now I want common citizens from one side of Rome to the other to have no other name on their lips but Cicero.”

“You can count on me, brother,” Quintus said, nodding.

“Atticus, I leave it to you to gather support among the knights,” Cicero said. “While I count many of them as clients already, I expect an even larger number of supporters among your class. Find out what is important to them that I can, as aedile, deliver, and promise it to them if it is within my power to give. I will not have the support of many plebeians or patricians, if any, so my support among the equestrian class must help carry the election.”

“I shall do what I can, of course, my dear Cicero,” Atticus responded.

“And I?” Sulpicious asked. “What would you have me do?”

“Ah, yes, Servius Sulpicious,” Cicero replied with a grin. “For you, I have perhaps the most important task. You have contacts across Rome, both highborn and lowborn. Use them – not necessarily to benefit me in the election, but instead to build anticipation and excitement around my prosecution of Verres. Assure them all of my intent to see Verres convicted and sent into exile, and promise a show such as the forum has not seen in generations! When I deliver my opening speech, I want a crowd of record numbers!”

Sulpicious laughed. “That, my friend, I can do.”

“Now, my friends, I’m afraid we must say goodnight,” Cicero said, rising. “Tiro and I leave early tomorrow, and we all have much to do before our work is done.”

“May the gods protect you both, Marcus,” Atticus said.

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