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Kneeling At My Feet

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The other day, Master and me went to the office to put in a work order since a couple things around the house seem to be breaking.  We needed some tiles glued, were missing a door knob handle for a pantry, and a few other things.  We placed our order, and requested “C,” who always comes by because he understands I work from home, and he always calls first to make sure I am not in a show.  In other words, C is cool shit.

When we were done we went over to the pool, and I laid down on a pool chair.  There was supposed to be a pool party so Master and me were just waiting for the fun to begin.  Suddenly, C showed up and knelt by my feet as I was laying there.  I know he was doing this to talk to me on my level (eye to eye).  I also know he was doing this as an act of discretion, so we could whisper a bit about my schedule during the week without every person nearby hearing what was going on.  Something bothered me about the situation though.  I sat up after the first sentence or two and crossed my legs in front of me.  I could not place my finger on what was bothering me until later that day.

I do not like it when anyone kneels by my feet.  No matter the situation, it always feels uncomfortable.  I always feel like it should be the other way around.  It doesn’t matter if we are in a D/s situation or not.  I am the one who should be on the floor.  When a man does this, it especially feels wrong.  I do not see myself as equal to men by any means.  I do not see myself as being on the same level as them, I see them as (in general, and each man always has the ability to prove me wrong) smarter, always right, stronger.  This doesn’t have as much to do with my kinky lifestyle as it has to do with my upbringing.

Now, please do not misunderstand me.  I do not think that men are better, smarter, stronger than women.  I do not think that women are on a different “lower” level than men.  I have an open mind, and everyone deserves the right to find their own path.  Women are not objects.  Women are not things.  Women can do anything.  But not me.

Growing up, my parents were very old fashioned.  My mother taught me to sew, and my father encouraged me to read.  If I wanted to go outside and swim with my brothers, it was looked down upon.  Why?  Because my mother thought that I should be indoors doing needle work, cooking, cleaning, or reading.  I’m sure a lot of you are going to take offense to that.  Please don’t.  They are my parents, and I love them dearly, including everything they tried to instill in me.  My parents also taught me that not everyone lives this way.  Not every woman is like this.  They simply brought me up to be the kind of woman that they thought would make a man happy.

More than once growing up, when I would ask my Daddy if I could help him with something, he would often tell me “Oh, this is a man’s job, but thank you for offering to help me.  Maybe your Mother needs help.”  And off I would go.  He didn’t mean it with malice, or hate.  Those we simply his feelings.  I think that going to school which taught the opposite of what I learned at home made me feel like yes, there are women out there who feel the same way I do, and are happy.  But women can also be CEOs, or public figures in places of power etc, so long as that makes them happy.  I am not anti-women’s progress.  I am simply anti-ME doing those things.  Your choice is your choice, and my choice lands me at Master’s (and sometimes other people’s) feet.

I am happy being this way.  I am not blind.  I know the entire world doesn’t work like this.  There are male subs, and female Mistresses.  There are male adult babies, with female “mommies”.  There are women police officers and women doctors, and I do not think that any of those things are “wrong”.  Here in my world, my life, this is how I feel.  I do not like running the show.  I do not want to see myself as Master’s (or any other man’s) equal, I do not want to be in charge of him.  I simply want to be his compliment.  He makes the plans, and I carry out the orders.  Sometimes, it takes a little thing like someone trying to schedule a time to come by to make you realize something that has always been going on.

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