Journal Entry |
To say i'm a bit overanalytical is kind of an understatement. i always want to know the "how" and "why" of things. i say 'want', here, not 'need', because if it were a need, i would be a very unhappy girl. Sir says, "Inside My head is not a place for you" He's never going to announce when He's teaching me a lesson, or changing me, and often He does it in such an insidious manner that i don't even notice until i get bitchslapped by epiphany anyhow.
If Sir ever explains His reasoning for anything to me, it's because my head is really fucked up. i like to think that i've gotten better at not questioning Him, but really, it's inevitable that at least once a day i'll forget, and ask "what are You thinking about?" - le sigh-
Yesterday i was feeling rather badly about a particularly vicious assfucking He bestowed upon my poor butt the night before. (sans lube! Oh, that full bottle over there? Hasn't been used in months) i was starting to think that the recent uptick in Sir's thrusting the length of His cock into this girl's unsuspecting ass, ignoring all pleas for mercy, had some reason. Was i being 'put in my place'? Was He stressed, and ragefucking? Why, my poor butt, ow, why?
Of course, i had no idea, so i asked Sir. He looked rather bemused as He answered:
"Because it's fun."
"That's it? There's no, like, underlying..."
"Do I need any other reason?"
i really should just stop with the inquisitive bit. Curiosity killed the cat, and all that.