Dreams.. and Stark Reality

Before I start this fully, please take note that some of this is meant to be humorous, as well as (hopefully) a look at the difference between the dream/fantasy of D/s and BDSM, and the reality of every day life.

I dream of being beaten nightly, your helpless slut, bound by your whim, wearing the marks of your whip proudly.

Damnit, he missed with the flogger, well can't wear short sleeves for the next few days. Hells, please don't let him want to scene tonight, all I want to do is sleep, well and maybe watch that new movie. What time was that on again, oh well. Whose idea was it to use these chains every night, Damnit, talk about making a trip to the bathroom an ordeal.

I dream of kneeling silently at your feet, attentive to your every whim, your touch to my face my only needed reward.

How long does he expect me to kneel here. My legs are killing me, and this silence is really beginning to bug me. I'm going to go crazy, okay so I'm almost crazy anyway. What is he so engrossed in this time. Come on, just a few words here and there. Whoever said silence was comfortable had no clue. Oh hes looking this way, stop fidgiting..epp too late.

I dream of having total and utter control over you, my wanton slut. No decision shall you make, for I shall do it all.

Did I say all, well I meant mostly. Can't you choose your own clothes? Did you remember to pay the gas bill? What do you mean thats part of utter control?

I dream of seeing the light of gentle submission in your eyes.

Oh gods, not that look again, too tired to dom you, must reach chair, watch WWF, need beer, pizza. This Dom stuff is hard work, no one told me it was hard work,. Thought it was supposed to be easy, you're the slave, you do it all for me.

I dream of being told to wear slutty clothes and heels all the time.

Oh I'd kill to wear slacks, if I have to clean the bathroom in these heels one more time I swear I'll scream.

I dream of you waking me with breakfast in bed, every morning, dropping gracefully to your knees as you offer me my morning repast.

What the hells was that noise. Who let the kids in, where are my glasses and what is that smell. Its too early for this . I want to sleep, its my day off.

I dream of curling up on the sofa, a collar where it should be, hands entwined. A quiet moment when all is right with the world
I am your slave.
I am your Master.
And reality is a bitch queen in full blown PMS. Together we will work out the reality of our D/s, and spend the rest of our lives suppressing a laugh when reading those bad novels.