Lifestyle · Submission

Communicating…Loudly

Note: If you’re not a brat and mouthing off makes you itchy….avert your eyes right now. Click here to be redirected to a calming video instead.  

 

It is official. This week fucking sucks. Daddy has been acting weird all week, the stress of the upcoming in law visit is weighing on me, and Bossman is being his usual peachy self.

Plus the little app on my phone is telling me that next week is shark week. Which means I’m PMSing. That would explain the massive amounts of chocolate I inhaled the previous night.

I’m currently sitting in my car yelling at my dominant on the phone. I am pissed off, frustrated and hurt. He wanted to know what was bothering me? I’d fucking tell him! Little ariel is tucked away safely somewhere, and big boss lady Ariel is large and in fucking charge. And she is not a happy camper.

“I’m sorry,” he’s saying. “I’ve been wishy washy.”

“Why?” I snarl. Fuck empathy.

“I’ve just got a lot going on in my personal life and renovating this damn house is kicking my ass.”

“Your ‘personal life’ affects me. You should try this thing called communicating. I don’t know what’s going on with you if YOU DON’T TELL ME!”

“I know. I just…was feeling defeated. Miserable.” He pauses. “But that’s no excuse.”

“No,” I grit out. “It’s not. I just don’t get it. Logically, it makes no sense. If you’re so miserable, why do you want to continue being my dominant? Why not just let us go back to be friends?”

Amusement tints his voice but he quickly reigns it back in. “I’m not miserable with you, I’m miserable with this other stuff. Plus I care about you.”

“Yeah, but you can care about me as a friend-”

And I like being your dominant. Your daddy.”

I growl. “You are not making any sense!” I can hear him moving around in his kitchen, getting ready for work. Totally calm. I take a deep breath and try to calm myself as well. “Listen here. This is big Ariel speaking.” I ignore his chuckle. “I don’t do half-assed. I don’t do it at work, in my personal life and I’m not going to do it with you. When you’re wishy washy, it leaves me feeling insecure and unsure and frustrated. And angry. All negative emotions that I do not like to deal with.” I take a deep breath and charge on before he can speak. “And do you know what my response to that is? To just walk away. And yadda yadda yadda, I know that’s not a healthy response but it’s the only one I’ve got so far. It’s a habit. And I’d hate to walk away from you and our friendship because we’re not communicating and you’re not fully invested in this.”

“I know, you’re right,” he says. “From now on I will try…no, not try, I will absolutely be more definitive with you.”

“Hmph!”

He laughs, but I am not amused.

“I mean it, kitten.”

His pet name annoys me. “Pft. I’m not feeling very submissive right now.”

He makes a noise of surprise. “Oh really? To me or just in general?”

“Well, you’re the only one that I’m submitting too and you’re the only one that I’m ever submissive with!”

“Ok…”

“And I’m not going to be submissive. Fuck that noise.”

“I’m still the boss.”

“No, I’m the boss. You’ve been a bad daddy!” I’m toeing the line of disrespect at this point, but fuck it. I don’t care. I’m emotional and scared and lashing out.

“Kitten…”

“NO!” I stamp my foot even though he can’t see me and I’m sitting down. “Don’t ‘kitten’ me. You know what’s fucked up? We’ve been friends for almost a year now and you’ve never been wishy washy? Why now? I DON’T LIKE CHANGE!” I’m yelling again, damn it. I take a deep breath.

His voice is calm and steady. “I know, I know.”

“SO STOP IT!”

He pauses. “Did you just yell at me?”

I pause, too. “Yeah. Sorry.”

He laughs. “Damn. That’s the second time you’ve yelled at me. You must be feeling pretty emotional.”

I frown. “Are you mocking me?!”

“No. Not at all. I’m glad you’re communicating. And getting it out there. Don’t be sorry. I can handle it.”

We fall into silence for a few moments.

“I’m sorry I’m being a bitch,” I mutter.

“You’re upset and telling me why you’re upset. Stop apologizing. You’re not being a bitch.”

“Hmph.”

Daddy changes the subject. “You’re going to the munch tonight.” It was my regular ABDL/little’s munch and up until a few days ago I was excited about going. But now I was feeling mopey.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“FUCK THAT MUNCH!”

“LANGUAGE!” Despite himself, he laughs. “Ariel. You will go to that munch.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You must not have heard me.”

“You must not have heard me. You will go that munch.”

“Pft! Or what?”

“Your bottom will be plugged on Monday morning.”

I hesitate. He’d never used the plug on me before. He doesn’t like physical punishments. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

I can hear him chewing. “Are you eating?”

He laughs. “Yes, little Ariel. I’m eating. I need to eat before I go to work.”

“Am I holding you up?”

He hesitates for a second. “A little bit.”

“Well, let me let you go then.”

“Ok. But you’re going to the munch tonight.”

“NO I’M NOT! I’M NOT GOING TO THE STUPID FUCKING MUNCH!”

His voice grows stern and my pussy instantly clenches. “Listen here,” he growls. “I’m not interested in continuing this conversation. You have two options: go to the munch tonight and have a good time or have your ass plugged on Monday. End of conversation.”

“Ok, fine.”

“I have to go.”

“WAIT!”

“No I’m not going to-”

“Can we still text?” My voice has dropped back to my sweet little girl voice that I  know he loves.

He barks a laugh. “Yes, we can still text, kitten.” I hang up with him still laughing.

Ten minutes later, I receive a text from him. We text back and forth but I’m not ready to roll over just yet.

Feeling pretty stabby right now. Haven’t played. No rules. Daddy’s being an ass. Etc, etc.

He replies back: Boss. Not ass. And speaking of ass. Still waiting on my pic.

Oh are you now? That’s a shame. And ass. Not boss. 

Pic now.

I don’t feel like it.

I don’t care. Now.

I have granny panties on. Still want that pic, champ?

I don’t care. Now. 

I huff and text back ‘fine’ before stomping off to the bathroom to take the damn picture. As I’m walking I realize I feel better. Him forcing me to do something is making me feel better. I practically skip the rest of the way.

Once I send it to him, he texts me back: Thank you, kitten. Those panties are still sexy by the way. The way they accentuate your curves…;) 

I laugh. I love my Daddy. I believe that he will get us back on track again. But I don’t plan on making it easy on him. I’m still the extremely bratty, stubborn and skittish woman he fell for.  I meant what I said about not feeling submissive. Right now his lapse in dominance has left me feeling scared. Insecure. Wary. If he wants his sweet little kitten back….he’ll have to come and get her.

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