Branding your slave

Now we’re into the hard core stuff. Now we’re really getting into D/s. No more of this wimpy spanking and flinging me around the bed kinda thing. This is the real stuff.

Richard spoke in an earlier post about wanting to brand me. I have pleaded that being the mother of young children and a professional makes it inappropriate. (And my children see me naked a lot. I am not a fan of clothing.) Plus I have this ugly vision of me as a 95-year-old (I come from a long-lived line), my kids changing my diaper and seeing “Fucktoy” or some such on my private bits. Ew. Plus it sounds very owie and scary and I am *not* a masochist.

Richard took branding “off the table”, as well as threesomes and public play, because he saw that discussing them caused a lot of anxiety for me in the early days. Not so much now but (as far as I know anyway) they are still off the table.

I think his doing this allowed me to move into being in a full-time D/s relationship more easily than I might otherwise have. Richard has demanded a lot of me at times, but I have never felt incapable of obeying and I have never worried that he would ask more than I was capable of obeying. Because he’d taken those things off the table.

However, a couple of weeks ago Richard told me that he wanted me to have something done to my body. Something extreme, from my perspective. More extreme, in some ways, than a small, privately placed branding or tattoo. Extreme (to me) because everyone can see it and it is very different from my (previous) public persona.

Richard wanted me to get fake fingernails.

I’ve never even painted my fingernails. They stay pretty short by themselves and occasionally I trim them but more often I just nip off an edge with my teeth if I notice.

I really, really didn’t want to get them. For one thing, I figured I’d break them within a few minutes, so they’d be a waste of money.

Richard and I had a long talk about it this morning and I realized that the *main* reason it felt so uncomfortable to me is that I’ve always had a sort of “nature girl” approach to my looks. I rarely wear makeup, I rarely blowdry or curl my hair, I rarely wear heels…I’m pretty much as God made me, you know?

I think maybe I had a little bit of arrogance around that – “Other women fix their nails and their hair and wear lots of makeup, but *I* have more important things to do”. And honestly, I do have a lot of other things to do. A demanding career, my kids, house, garden, pets, cooking (I love cooking).

But Richard is important too. And being attractive to Richard is important. And he is so, so visual (male AND a photographer – a double whammy).

So today I walked into a salon and I got acrylic fingernails.

They’re short and they’re natural looking (ish). I think they’re called a French manicure, or pink-and-whites.

When she started working on my fingernails my hands were shaking.

By the time I left I was calmer, but they looked weird to me.

Tonight – I love them. I feel sexy and very feminine.

Richard thinks they’re sexy and he’s very pleased with me, because this was hard for me to do and I did it without whining (well, not *much* whining). This afternoon when we made love I grabbed his shoulders with my nails, and scratched his back. They didn’t break! I felt like a wanton! This is great!

I said maybe next we could talk about a tattoo, but Richard said he thinks a tattoo isn’t right for me and he’s thinking maybe we’ll dye my hair platinum instead. My eyes about bugged out of my head when he said that. I wish I had a safe word…

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