Read My Kink

My experience with Sir and Miss last weekend was nothing like I had experienced before.  I spent the weekend literally being pet.  I spent some time in a cage, played fetch with Sir, and barked at the bathroom door every time I needed to use the toilet.  For the first time, I also wore a collar; and as much as I do not like things around my neck, wearing the pink “Sir and Miss” collar made me feel great.  Every time I look at the collar, (which is now hanging on a hook on a wall,) I am reminded of what I want out of this relationship.  It also reminds me of my place as a pet, that it is okay to talk with them when I need to, and that it is okay to lean and not be strong all on my own.  Wearing the collar also means that the titles of Sir and Miss are back, that I am once again allowed to address them with those titles, and that I am “pet” once again.  The collar, to me, represents emotional stability and the sense of safety that I feel when I am with Sir and Miss.

Friday evening started out a little bit awkwardly.  I was nervous as hell, and I was not exactly sure why.  I had talked to a few people earlier, trying to figure it out; but could not find the cause of all the anxiety.  Everyone I talked to said the same thing though, that I needed to relax and just enjoy the experience.

After some small talk and some nervousness on my part, I slowly crawled over to the cage that was sitting in Sir and Miss’s living room.  Inside, I found the pink collar that I wanted so desperately to wear.  I was not quite sure what to do with it, so I brought it over to Sir and Miss and tried a couple times to ask/beg for them to place it around my neck.  Something about the collar hit me and made me tear up.  Miss, seeing my tears, held me for a bit and hushed me; saying that this was supposed to be happy.  Not wanting me to go into some emotionally dark places, Miss ordered me to get the Hitachi wand and have an orgasm.

It had been so long since I had had an orgasm.  This was mainly because of the emotional roller coaster ride I had been on, the past two weeks.  I had grown a lot, made a few mistakes, and was lacking some closure; so it only made sense that I was not in the mood for sexual pleasure.  It was as though emotional turmoil caused a loss of horniness for me; and I had almost forgotten what it felt like.  I am happy to say though, that one of the outcomes of this visit with Sir and Miss is that my horniness meter is back in working condition.

I was horrible at remembering to call them Sir and Miss for the first ten minutes of wearing the collar; but after some time, a trip to the laundry room for a time out, some push-ups, crunches, and a firm smack, I got the idea.  I sat briefly by Sir’s feet after having a nice orgasm before he told Miss to put me into the cage.  I had not had a hug from him yet; and I was feeling Sir-hug deprived.  While sitting in the cage, all of the emotions that were avoided during the first few moments of wearing the collar came back.  There was no orgasm to distract me this time; and I think, for once,  I was okay with letting my emotions out.

When those emotions came, I really wanted a hug; especially from Sir.  It isn’t that I do not enjoy Miss’s hugs, I do, a lot; but there is something about being held by Sir that’s different.  I get a sense of safety and security when I am being held by him.  While I didn’t know it at the time, I can say now that I wanted his hug because I was scared.  I was scared of screwing things up again, losing the titles, being lost, never getting to play with them again, and just losing them.  At the same time, I was (and still am a little) scared of leaning and getting attached.  The first set of fears is a little irrational, but there is a bug inside me that always tells me about those scary scenarios.  There is always something in my head telling me not to fuck things up.  I am working to get rid of it.  As for the second set of fears; there is really no point in having them.  The truth is, I got attached a long time ago, and I have been leaning.  Coming to that realisation really spooked me, and I am learning to accept it and embrace it.

It is as if, for my entire life, I have had a fighter defending me, and a hamster running on a wheel, causing me to overthink.  I have already had the pleasure of experiencing what it feels like when the hamster stops; but now my goal is to kill the fighter.  I have been using him as a crutch, to fight my way out of emotional things like attachment; but it is time I started embracing my emotions.

A little while later, Sir finally let me out of the cage and gave me a much-craved hug.  I clung onto him for a little while, not wanting to let go.  I wanted my tears, anxiety, fear, and insecurity to go away; and his hug helped. I stayed with him on the floor for the rest of the night, while Miss fell asleep on the couch.  Some time had passed, when Sir took a bathroom break and returned – without his pants on.

He instructed me to lie down with my head on his thigh, and to suck on his cock slowly.  At this point, two thoughts passed through my mind.  1) Was Miss okay with this? and 2) I hope I don’t choke too much.  I looked  up at Miss, sleeping so peacefully on the couch and assumed (yes, I assumed…again) that she and Sir had talked about what was okay and what wasn’t.  After a short little argument between my gut and my brain, I decided to just follow Sir’s lead and suck on his cock.  As for the choking, I learned to take it slowly.  For the first little while, Sir would not let me put my mouth any further than halfway down his shaft.  It was a good lesson on taking things slow, instead of rushing for everything.

I continued sucking his cock until Miss suddenly woke up, left the couch abruptly, brought a pillow and a blanket down for me, and rushed off to bed.  She was not ticked.  I looked at Sir and asked him if she was okay.  He said that yes, she was okay, and that she was just tired.  I strongly disagreed with that, but felt that it was not my place to argue with him.  I followed him upstairs to get the toothbrush out of his room, but stopped at the top of the stairs.  I heard Miss say something to Sir about not being included.  Miss was upset, and probably would not have wanted me to walk into her room at that point.  At that moment, I felt a wave of guilt pass through me.

A minute or two later, Sir came out with the toothbrush and toothpaste.  He followed me downstairs and said goodnight.  After brushing my teeth, I crawled into the cage and got comfy.  I’ll admit, that it was not easy sleeping, knowing that Miss was going to bed angry.  She had put a lot of planning into this weekend, and it sucked that it wasn’t working smoothly.

I woke up at around 8:00 that morning, to the sound of cats jumping on and off the cage, playing with the wires behind the TV, knocking stuff over in the kitchen, and rolling my Chapstick around the floor.  I got up to clean up the garbage can in the kitchen and retrieve my Chapstick; and after a short bathroom break, I crawled back into the cage.  I cocooned myself with the duvet and lounged until I heard the sound of the bath tub upstairs.  From the sound of the footsteps, it seemed as though Sir was having a bath and Miss was joining him.  I was still a tad unsettled from last night, still feeling a bit guilty, but also hopeful that everything would work out.

My doubts were eased when both Sir and Miss came down to greet me.  I asked her if she was okay, and she said that she was.  All was good again. Later, in an online conversation, Miss said something that made me think.  She said that it was not my place to take care of her.  While I understood what she meant, my brain decided to wander a little bit more.  Was it my place to feel guilty?  I mean, I cannot really help the way I feel about things; but if my job is to obey and be pleasing, should I not have just been happy for doing what I was told?

This is a great example of how logic does not always work.  For a large part of my life, I have let logic work its magic, forgetting to factor in the human component of everything.  The last month or so has been full of lessons and growing for me.  I have learned that we are not robots.  We are humans.  We make mistakes and have emotions and occasionally act irrationally when we are scared.

Like humans, pets are the same.  I have never had a perfect pet.  Taipan the horse had a habit of going crazy every time I got on to ride him.  He was far too smart for his own good, and knew the exactly when his buck would knock me off of his back.  Zippaddee the hamster would always escape from his cage and make a mess of wood shavings everywhere.  He was also the first pet to break my heart, by dying when I was only five years old.  Eddie and Freddie, lovely birds they were, would never shut up at night.  Eddie always nipped at your fingers, and Freddie would go flying off the bird swing and slam his head into the cage.  But despite their flaws, their quirks, and the annoyance they caused, I loved every single one of them.  If I was able to love a crazy sadistic horse, be patient with a Houdini hamster, and sing along with birds that kept me up all night, there is no reason I should expect myself to be a perfect pet.

I guess what I have come to realise, is that I do not need to be perfect to be pleasing.  In fact, perfect can be quite boring.  Quirks and flaws are part of my personality, and make me who I am.  It was foolish to even think that I should fix everything about me that I thought was “wrong.”  I am a pet, and I come as a package deal.  There will be good moments, even great moments; but there will also be mistakes and a time for correction and even perhaps punishment.  Pets are not perfect; and it’s high time I remembered that.

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NB:  I was originally going to write about my entire weekend in one post; but it seems that I am a talented rambler.  Therefore, this post is going to be split into two or three parts.