Thursday, October 4, 2012
Forniphilia and Foreboding
Allen Jones sculptures
Lately Sir has been using His Good Girl™ as a footstool or a table when He is so inclined. i enjoy it immensely, although i’m not sure of the “why”. There is something about serving as furniture for Him that makes me feel so…tiny. Unimportant. Less-than-human. i suppose that would be the point of it, but i don’t know how those feelings translate into, well, it being so hot. i didn’t know i would be the kind to go in for that kind of objectification, but serving as furniture flips some switch in me that is beyond my comprehension.
All other reactions aside, what i enjoy most of all about serving as furniture for Sir is the stillness it brings me, the sense of quiet. More often than not, i’m fidgety, both physically and mentally. Being His table or footstool quells the thoughts that race through my head, and allows me to just be. Lately i’ve been feeling pretty overwhelmed, i haven’t finished a to-do list in a week, there’s laundry that’s been sitting in the dryer for three days (!!!), and with everything that’s going on i feel like i will never catch up. It definitely throws me off-kilter. But when Sir commands me to be His footstool or table, i become calm, centered, and grounded. It’s a powerful tool He uses to remind me of my place (not to mention it’s convenient!)
When Sir began having me serve as His footstool or table, the act somehow brought up a feeling of almost shame. i would guess that it was my ego getting in the way, but that’s not the case now. When holding one position starts to become difficult, or i had just managed to not wobble the plate or glass, i feel an incredible sense of pride. i am fulfilling my single purpose in that moment, and it’s rewarding.
Sir sees a tableau for us, with Him sitting at the kitchen table with His coffee and reading, me underneath it, propping up His feet, and having my breakfast out of a dog bowl. He enjoys that picture, and has mentioned getting that bowl for me on more than one occasion. It makes me nervous, to say the least. i’m afraid of how it will make me feel. i know, in fact, that the first few times it would seem almost unbearably embarrassing. i have an overdeveloped sense of embarrassment. Of course, i wouldn’t fight it, but i’ll likely complain a bit. Sir wouldn’t care much, i’m sure. If it is something He decides i need, or simply something He would enjoy, then it will happen, whether i protest or not.
In thinking about it, it probably is something that would be useful to use on me right now. Instead of telling Sir when i began to feel “off”, i’ve allowed that feeling to build until the point where (once again) i am in need of a radical realignment to His vision of me. i finally confessed where my headspace has gone, and have asked Him to rectify it. It’s never a fun thing when He has to “fix” me, and it’s always of my own doing that it gets to this point. Eventually i will learn to not let it go this far, it will be much easier in the long run. For now, all i can do is accept whatever maintenance Sir sees fit to perform, and try to not fall off track again.