It is not a good idea to tell your owner that he is harrassing you

The last few days have been filled with frustration. My passport has gone" walk about". I have been promised it will be back when I need it, but I am beginning to get a little anxious, well more than a little anxious, in fact, I am chomping at the bit. I have not got to the stamping my foot bit yet, but will be there soon.

 Then my back account has had something funny (as in peculiar, most definitely not amusing) happen to it, and I cannot get any money out unless I present myself to the bank with my ID card and my Passport(see above)...so life is a little trying at present.

Add to that communication has been difficult with my owner, My laptop has been in for repair and so I have have had to rely on my phone, which would have been fine, except I broke my old one and bought a new one, which is an Android phone. Anyone over 40 should not be given a new phone and be expected to be able to use it within the next week...OMG...its driving me crazy.

My owner has got very frustrated, I have missed calls, missed phone dates etc etc. I was given a big lecture about being there when I was told to be.

I told him that he was harassing me...oh dear that did not go down well at all...he was not impressed, at all, in fact I was punished for being rude, being late and generally just being arsy.

I had to stand on tiptoe, facing the wall, with my nipples pegged and keep the sim card from my phone pressed to the wall with my nose, and after thirty minutes of this I was allowed to stop.
Thinking it was over, I started to ask to be allowed to say that I was sorry when he  had me peg my mouth together. Not just one peg, but six pegs. I hate this more than just about anything, and then I had to put the hood on. I was left to think about my behaviour for a while and then he began to give me instructions.

"Bend over and hold your ankles"

"Do star jumps"

"Touch your toes"

More and more instruction followed...from the ridiculous to the demanding to painful and  humiliating.

On and on it went, for hours, on and off. he would stop and start again, pegs on, pegs off, hood on, hood off,...until he asked...

"Do you feel harassed yet slave? "

I didn't know what to answer.

""You are not harassed slave, I tell you to do something and you do it, that is how it is, If I want to phone you every five minutes all night then I can. I would not because it is not in your best interests, but I can, and I would expect you to answer the phone, politely each time. I was trying to get hold of you, I was waiting around for you to respond. That is NOT how it should be. You will not keep me waiting again, without a very good reason, and I expect you to tell me if ANY of your plans have to be changes. Do you understand?"

I was ashamed of how I had been behaving. Instead of talking to him and telling him what was going wrong and how I was feeling, I thought that as there was nothing he could do, I would just get on with it and then lashed out at him when it all went more wrong.

"Go to bed and think about what you have done, and what you should have done, I want an email by 9am telling me what you think. Sleep well slave, remember  love you and that I always want what is best for you. When I have read your email I will talk to you. Goodnight "

And with that i was sent to bed. I cried a little, fumed a little and fell asleep thinking about what to write. I woke early the next morning and wrote him a short email about  what I thought, and with my finger hovering over th esend button, I closed my eyes and pressed it.

I waited and very soon he signed into speak to me.
One word popped up.

"Finished"

 I did not know what it meant...had he finished reading it...what?

He turned the camera on...
"He was smiling at me....."Its finished slave, done with, good girl "

OH sigh, I felt so much better.

He was right, I should have told him, should have given him the opportunity to have his say, offer his advice and opinion, it is not my choice to decide which bits of my life I include him in, all of my life is his.
I am his.