The Hand That Feeds

26 November, 2006 i relaxed in the bathtub the morning of the surgery. Master sat there with me. i contemplated. i meditated (even though i don't meditate). i cried! Master said i really am the little girl. Previously, i looked in the mirror -- i placed my hands out in front of me as if to assess two large honeydews, one in each hand. i had been doing this for weeks! i eyed my hips -- the hips that are designed for swaying and giving birth and as handles for serious HARD ROUGH f-ing. Its kind of nice that i got to learn about life pre-big boobs. Just ask the girls with naturally big boobs -- they want to be seen for their insides FIRST. They tire of all those divergent, clumsy-and-rarely-discreet eyes. All girls want to be noticed for their persona -- the difference here is that i proved to myself already that my insides are big attractive mahatmas! NOW i'll get to savor all the looks from the curious ones and the admirers -- the stares and the darting eyes that attempt to stay focused on mine while my cleavage steers them into the cavern! There will also be the predators, competitors, and deviants and i will just love it all! my insides will now be the dessert since i've already known my soul as the main course meal. i'll now know big boobs as a fun peripheral rather than as an obstruction to the satiated desire of being known and seen for talent and wits. When you're born buxom, you crave to be seen without it. When you're born without it, you crave it for exactly the reason the naturally endowed don't want it. And still ... There i was in the bathtub ... the morning of surgery ... Master reminded me how i am a pretty girl and how now i'll be prettier. He enumerated my physical attributes and it reminded me of the card i sent Him a few weeks ago. The illustration shows a woman looking up to a Man and her think caption reads, "my hero" while His reads, "nice body". i love gender differences! THAT should have been my major! Gender Studies. Master told me that now i'll be even better ... even hotter ... that i've got a nice compactness, a perfect heart-shaped bottom, the little waist, the nice rocking hips, and that this now will make me a luscious hour-glass. i'll be the epitome of woman, inciting drools, provoking envy. And still, i apologized and asked if i could fish. He allowed it, but only after first offering up the fish to the bait. "Yes, little girl, you are the BEST f. of My life, the most beautiful, the most devoted slave, the smartest, the quickest, the most clever ..." ---------------- (oh how superlatives soothe little girls ~wink~) ------ ----- "But Master, ... Master ... well, she's sorry to ask, but what about this slave's blogs? Do You really like them?" Poor, poor, pitiful slave. ~smile~ Y/you see? my insides will always be the thing i'll want savored most of all. Master held my hand. And then He held it tighter still. He offered a few more bones in the form of positive reactions to a few particulars in my blogs and then my tail wagged, my nerves were set at ease. ~~~ + ~~~ Once at the doctor's office, W/we entered the examining room to do the pre-op with the nurse. Master pulled a chair right along side the exam table and as i sat there, He held my hand the whole time. my Master is INSANE this way. i LOVE how He babies me. He again told me how proud He is of me and again, i reminded Him, "oh yes, but Master, You really do love this slave's soul, right? i mean, without a soul, a body is nothing, right? i mean, sure -- a great body is GREAT but it wouldn't mean anything if there weren't a soul contained within it, right?". And He smiled. Wow did i feel coy. Wow did bold feel sweet and permittable. Masters don't go around pronouncing love proclamations. They smile. They hold your hand and They let you know in some telepathic way that They love your heart just as much as your ability to take every bit of f-ing They can inflict. And in this case, with this Master, my beautiful Master, i AM superwoman! i can take EVERY bit of Kryptonite He hurls and pumps ... and that's alot of Kryptonite. He's a maniac, He's all Male, and He is my Daddy even though you'd never know it. There is nothing like a superhero expressing tenderness! Master held my hand. This should be my very own concocted proverb. When the pre-op nurse was finished, the anaesthialogist had His turn. i cried. Master held my hand. When the doctor came in ... i cried. Master held my hand. When i was called to then follow the nurse into the operating room, i felt okay ... light and happy. Master kissed me goodbye and i started down the hallway on tippy toes. i turned to look over my shoulder not really quite sure if i did it by rote or if Master had said something to have me turn and look at Him again. It all felt like slow motion. Filmic. i blew Him my usual air-kiss. Smiled. And continued. i entered the operating room. i cried. Master was still holding my hand even though He was in the waiting room. Once situated on the operating table, i was amazed at how comfortable! i even said so. They all knew i was nervous -- i was crying! A few small talk questions were asked, and then i woke up. Master later told me that He knew precisely when i had come out of recovery because He heard only my high pitched recicitation: "oh God oh God oh God". That's when i was moved from asleep in the bed to awake in the chair. i asked the nurse if she was really sure i was ready to go home. i was certain she was disposing of me too quickly! i was in limbo! And in pain! Master took me by the hand, but this time, it was not because i was crying. Master held my hand as if He had just picked up His pet from the Veterinarian Hospital. He carried me home. He holds my hand but you see, its really that He is holding my leash. He is forever allowing me the most sublime pleasure of all -- the one that is just like the superlatives i aspire to be -- i get to be the loyal obedient pet and i have the supreme comfort and pleasure of being owned. Master holds my hand. i'm claimed. i'm secured. i'm improved, first emotionally, now physically. i'm with added value ... and still, i always look for His hand.