Doctor Who

I have recently been talking to someone who does Doctor Who roleplaying with her Top wherein she's the Doctor, he's the Master, and kinky, sexy highjinks ensue. They also do erotic hypnosis-the sonic screwdriver is the trigger.

I'm bitter I never thought of it.

(no subject)

The monkey is making a little spare cash taking care of a friend's dog, which involves, basically, housesitting.

Our original plan was the monkey would depart with me to work today, get dropped off at the dog-house (20 minutes, each way, out of my way), and be picked up whenever I was done.

This morning, the Monkey announced to me, after I woke him up: "I'm out of effexor."

I should note at this point that the monkey has several of those multi-day pill reminders, and that only this weekend I had asked him to fill the rest of them out, as I had found one with the wrong "day slots" empty (the implication being he had missed meds). This didn't get done, obviously.

So the monkey goes through his bags and bags of pill bottles, and discovered the above, and I told him "Okay, fine, call it in". This is not the first time that I've been notified of being out of something last-minute so I didn't think anything of it.

The monkey calls rite-aid...and they tell her it's too early to fill it.

We go upstairs, and look at the dates on the bottles. Filled June 14. Bottle claims to hold 60 pills, but there's NO WAY 60 will fit in the bottle.

It's clear the prescription has been mis-filled at this point (for about half, and the running out was 15 days, to the day).

I tell her to call her shrink and ask if he can write a script for 15 days worth of the drug -- as a backup plan to getting the pharmacy to realize their error. At worst case scenario, we can take the script to another pharmacy and just pay retail (and not involve the insurance company -- which is the determiner of how soon the refill can be picked up). She leaves a message. Her shringk calls her later, and says "just call them up and explain the situation."

She calls them again, and tries to: They say they've put in an override for the refill time, because (and I laugh at this) the pills were filled by a machine, and "Machines don't make mistakes". (We all know that's bullshit).

So the now NEW plan is "Go, get the monkey, THEN go to the pharmacy, GET the drugs, THEN drop the monkey off at the dog-house, THEN return to work."

At the pharmacy, they surprise us by us pointing out that this TINY bottle is the only one we got, and they look, and realize, this actually IS an issue: the machine that fills the thing filled the same prescription this time, and used the same tiny bottle, but made up TWO of them, and most-dangerously (and possibly, illegally: printed the TOTAL NUMBER OF PILLS on both bottles. You get that? We got two bottles, each saying qty: 60, but each contained 30.

So after they explain it to us, I ask one of the pharmacists "why doesn't your machine just use a bigger bottle". I have to ask her three times, and she doesn't understand the question. (I guess I'm RACIST for thinking that you need to SPEAK ENGLISH to be a pharmacist and do things like EXPLAIN DRUGS TO PEOPLE). I give up.

Then, we struggle to find the dog-house, because the Monkey didn't bring the directions we had printed the previous night. Ah well, we pull them from my phone and make it there.

I get her into the house with the dog, and head off to work. At this point I've missed lunch and been away from the office for about 1.5 hours.

I'm back at my desk, eating lunch I grabbed while out, and my office phone rings.

"Sir...Please don't be mad."

Yeah. You [may have] guessed it. Not only did she not take these NASTY WITHDRAWAL SIDE-EFFECTS drugs AS SOON AS WE GOT THEM...She left them in my car. And I get to drop everything once again to bring her the meds (at the dog-house, which is about 3x the distance from my office as home)...only possibly to drop everything a third time this evening to pick her up. All the while fighting the lights and traffic so prevalent in our area right now.

This...is not going to be pleasant.

Continuation to the last entry...

Yes, I decided that for a) not being more on top of her meds and b) killing time I could be spending at work and c) REALLY not being on top of her meds, the monkey needed to be punished.

One of the things I stress to the Monkey is that my job IS critical to our relationship, and working in IT means odd hours, long hours, leaving in the middle of the night to code because that's when it can get done... Ergo, pulling me away from the office during business hours, is BAD.

I made her strip down to nothing, right in the kitchen, and then I bent her over the back of the couch, held her by the collar with my left hand, and bare-handed her what had to be fifteen or twenty times, on the right ass-cheek. She screamed, she howled, and a few times she started to lose her footing but I ordered her to stay in position, and she did.

Afterward, she had this attitude come over her. I call the attitude "the dark place". She gets narrow-eyed, spiteful, questions everything. Says things that make me doubt the relationship. Things like "is this what you wanted?" and "are you happy now" and (between sobs) "I want to go home". Everything about her; her tone, her demeanor, her body language...they all change. And honestly, when she becomes That Person (it's a mood shift, not like multiple personalities)...I just want to slap her down until she becomes the sweet, submissive, loving girl I adopted.

At one point, she was clawing into my breast, scratching, and I told her, outright: "You know what I'm going to take away if you attack me. (She'll lose her hair). Put your hand down." She did. Eventually, it was over, and I allowed her to take two of her panic attack medicine, which should have her out for the rest of the night. She tells me she wants to take it when she feels like hurting herself -- and I'm all in favor of that, but more often than not, rather than resorting to the crutch of the drug (and eight to twelve hours of drooling sleep), I try to push her through it. Tonight, I couldn't be there (I'm back at work, making up for lost time) -- and I couldn't be sure she'd be okay. I still dislike it. I've pulled her out of spots before where she just wanted to take it and go to sleep.

I see that drug as a parachute. If you're in a nosedive, it can save you before you crash...but you still lose something.

After, while she was making dinner for herself (I wanted her to eat something before she slept), she accused me of being "black and white". Either not punishing her at all, or punishing every little infraction. I countered with the fact that no, meds are just so singularly important. Our very first meeting was influenced by her needing to take those panic drugs, and not having them on her. You bet your ass (no pun intended) I'm going to be rigid about prescribed medications. She said "she felt like she was being beaten every other day." And again I countered that right now her contract only has one clause. The only other punishment she's gotten was for not bringing her nightmare drugs to a slumber party two hours away (note, again, that it's med related). I remarked that she needs to take more responsibility for her drugs now, as previously her parent handled all the refills and insurance and copayments, and now it MUST be her.

So she ate, and we cuddled. I tried to take her collar off, because I didn't want her to feel trapped by it. She begged me not to, and I left it on. I held her as the drug took effect, as she started to trail off. I brought her up to my room, and she stripped and went to bed, tethered and clad in only underwear.

I love her dearly. I don't enjoy seeing her scream and cry like this. But part of my job is to make her just a little bit afraid of not doing these things.
This is behavior conditioning. It's training. It's not always going to be pleasant. I sometimes wonder if some part of her believes that I'm just doing this because she complained she wasn't getting enough -- if she thinks I'm just trying to overfeed her.