so-much-to-play-with: A choice, a simple choice.A choice that I made her make to prove her surrender
so-much-to-play-with: A choice, a simple choice.A choice that I made her make to prove her surrender. Not to prove it to me, to prove it to her.She had had a shitty day and had been fulminating for a good part of the day, emptying her rancor through texts to me, so I’d told her that, as soon as she’d pass the door, she’d go into her basket and I would take care of everything for the evening. We’re still trying to find the proper adjustments when doing pet play, but I intended to prepare diner, bath her, and basically let her run free to ease her mind.So far, there aren’t many rules associates with our pet play – it’s not really the proper state of mind to put “rules” in it – so we basically run it as it comes, which means limited words, use of thumbs or furniture exchanged against more freedom and attention. Simple. But how far could I expand this kind of plays? As far as she would allow. A simple choice.“I’m still hungry!” she told me. “I want food!” The message was clear. I went into the kitchen and brought back a dog bowl, full of yogurt and jam. Kneeling beside her, I put the bowl on the floor and placed a spoon on its edge. I knew it could be messy, not expected, humiliating… But for me, it was the perfect moment.. “I leave you the choice.”For half a second, the most interesting half second, her decision remained pending. Then she made her choice. -- source link
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