And they lived happily ever after.

My diary posts from now on are going to be shorter, and there is a reason for that: I have other stuff I have to do. 

I still want to write them, though, because my “life in 24/7 BDSM” topical posts are quite popular, so I want to keep providing my readers with a glimpse of what life in 24/7 BDSM can look like. It’s not to say that every relationship is the same, but we are a low protocol polycule, and low protocol dynamics can certainly work for some people more than high protocol. 

We think it’s more fun, though quite who is having more fun and at whose expense is a question I sometimes ask myself. 

Yesterday was a day of pottering around and getting things done for me, and Master Levi spent some time watching Shrek. I know it’s hardly the blood-and-guts, slasher movie that some might imagine a Dominant man likes watching, but the man likes himself a Dreamworks movie sometimes. 

So okay. 

Whilst he watches it, though, I can’t help but think of who Princess Fiona reminds me of: me. 

Fiesty. Stubborn. Questioning. Opinionated.

And I don’t like that one bit. 

I mean, at this point I’ve come to accept that I share quite a few similarities with Cameron Diaz: we’re both Virgos. We both live authentically and unapologetically. We both openly love love, men and sex. When people are frustrated, we want to soothe their frustration, even if we can both be openly opinionated and frustrated ourselves. 

So the semblance is uncanny, and I don’t hate Cameron: I hate that she reminds me of me, because through her, I can see just how frustrating I can be. 

I’ve often said I would hate to date me: I’m stubborn. I ask thousands of questions. I have opinions that I’ll happily share, and not always when they’re asked for. I’m not hard to love, but fucking hell, I most certainly test that at times! 

Oh, also I will happily do the whole “with me, without me” thing from Knight & Day when I’m right about something, or when I save my partners’ bacon, because I love to remind my partners that — even if I might get on their very last nerve sometimes — their life is somehow all the better for having me in it. And not-so-secretly, they both know it too 😉  

But going back to the movie. 

I bounced into the lounge to notify Master that I do not like the semblance, and henceforth, he is not permitted to compare me to Princess Fiona. Master regards me with great amusement. 

“Why not?” he asks. 

He pauses, his expression suddenly stern.

“Also I don’t like my wife comparing herself to an ogre when she’s not an ogre, but carry on”. I roll my eyes. 

“I never said I was an ogre. I was referring to my personality: stubborn. Always asking questions. Highly opinionated”. Master smiles. 

“The fact that I look like an ogre is quite beside the point,” I giggle. I jump back to avoid the forthcoming swatting, Master catches me anyway and throws me over the back of the sofa. I protest. 

“You know, you two have an obsession with this bloody thing and wanting to throw me over it!” I argue.

“And whose problem do you think that is?” Master asks, and spanks me hard. 

So I have now accepted the similarity, but I have argued that if my wonderful gentlemen are going to compare me to a fictional princess, then they at least address me as “Your Majesty” in future.

I also learned that, coincidentally, Master’s team leader wants the team to dress as characters from Shrek for Halloween.

I develop a wicked smile. 

“Choose your words wisely,” Master warns. I’ve long been in trouble for calling Master Levi “Puss In Boots” after my father discovered Master Levi’s Chinese zodiac — the tiger (I’m a dragon) — and said “tiger?! He ain’t no tiger. He’s a bloody pussycat!”. 

So after that, any time we went to kink events and Master put his military power boots on (quite delicious, I can assure you!), my brain just went “Puss In Boots”. 

Yes, it always made my giggle. Yes, my ass was perpetually sore. Yes, quite often I would end up giggling, even if sometimes I wasn’t sure what I was laughing at anymore, I was just laughing for the sake of laughing. 

And yes, sometimes I would crash into subdrop and need to be quickly released because I’d had some sudden cathartic release and all of the shit that I’d been bottling up had come pouring out of me, but Master Levi is used to that and he keeps a close eye on me when we play for that very reason. 

But back to Shrek-related costumes here. 

“Donkey?” Master asks, I shrug. 

“Well, you can be a bit of an ass,” I smile. The eyebrow goes up. Aww shit, he gonn’ go nuclear. 

“Shrek?”

“No! My husband also isn’t an ogre.” 

“Then who?”

“The Big Bad Wolf, of course!” I grin. “You can borrow my dressing gown, you’ll just need some prop glasses and a shower cap.”

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