It's me again.
I'm not sure what happened. I've gone from really, really aggressive and sadistic last week to extremely submissive today. Probably if someone tracked my moods, they'd find that the more stressed I get, the more submissive I become. I get tired of always having to be the one to take care of things because I feel like I fuck everything I touch up.
My submissive moods vary, too. Sometimes, I need to feel my lack of control over a given situation (hence the various "force/rape" fantasies a few weeks ago). Sometimes, I'm more masochistic than submissive. Sometimes, I want to feel deep, dark humiliation and degradation, particularly on an emotional level (which is probably the old self-destructive impulse kicking in in new and exciting ways). Sometimes, my inner seven-year-old takes over.
Then, there are times, like right now, that I don't care about anything but pleasing my two owner-type people. If they want to whip me bloody, I want them to whip me bloody. If they want me to bake cookies, I want to bake cookies. If they want me to clean and do laundry, I want to clean and do laundry. If they want to fuck me stupid, I want them to fuck me stupid. If they want to snuggle me between them and make a slave-girl sandwich, I want them to snuggle me between them and make a slave-girl sandwich. If they want me to orally service them and a roomful of other people I've never met...well, you get the idea.
I don't really think of myself as terribly complex, but even I sort of get lost in the weird labyrinth of my own sexual identity. Some people can nail themselves down; I can't. Submissive me vaguely self-identifies as "service pet." That's about as close as I can come to a good, short descriptor for myself.
But now, I feel the "service" part heavily.
All I want to do right now is to serve, to please. I literally do not care about anything in the world but their pleasure, whatever it may be. I crave the feeling of sitting quietly at their feet while I await being told what to do.
When they're happy, I'm happy. When they're pleased, I'm pleased. It's so hard to break through my defenses, to get to me, to make me care about someone. But then, when I do, they're there in my heart forever. I'm not a half-assed kind of person. I don't do things halfway. I don't know HOW to do things halfway.
Love and service, in my mind, in my heart, are closely intertwined. I am stupidly devoted to Master and Mistress, and serving them is my way of showing it.
So, my loves, what can your devoted and slightly demented pet do to make you happy?