I spend a lot of time thinking and talking about what’s expected OF me, being owned and all… But I’m not going to talk about what he expects of me here…

I’m going to be (start?) talking about what I expect.

“Nothing” would be a giant lie, in case you were wondering.

I think I have two kinds of expectations.  Little ones and big ones.  The little ones need a post of their own, because they make me think, and some of them aren’t so much “little” as they are “fluid” (or temporary, or something… See?  Thinking.)  The big ones look something like this…

• As his property, I expect to be taken care of and protected, skillfully.
• As his pet, I expect my basic needs to be provided for, always.
• As his slave, I expect to be reminded of my place, mentally and physically.
• As his woman, I expect to be loved, exclusively.

And… I could ask myself (or you guys) a lot of questions about these expectations or explain precisely what I mean in detail.  And I came into this post thinking I would do a lot of explaining (and who knows, I might end up explaining later).  Stuff like: What exactly do I mean by those… Do I expect too much, too little… Is the third one in direct contradiction to the others… What do I mean by “always” in that second one, because I certainly don’t mean ALWAYS…  Etc.

But you know what the brilliant thing is?  It doesn’t matter.  All that matters is if Antonio is nodding and saying, “Yup,” to my expectations.

I think they might all be a product of how he’s molded me and how he expects me to view us and our relationship anyway.  So they might not even be personal expectations.  They might simply be what I’ve come to expect as a result of what he expects OF me.  Which is, as it happens, exactly what I said I wasn’t going to talk about here. Huh. Seems I can’t really avoid talking about him, though, even when I SWEAR I’m talking about me.  (Shocking, no?)