Tasks vs. responsibilities

I’ve messed up with Charlotte, lately.

She wants to be a good girl. She wants to give me what I want. But – as occasionally happens – she actually has specific desires as to what she wants me to want.

She’s been feeling this – and I’ve been feeling this – as somehow a failure of hers, as a desire to “top from the bottom.” But in practice, this is my failure. If I set the wrong expectations, if I make the wrong requests, then Charlotte feels a failure, but I am the failure. It’s incumbent on me, as the “Dom” in this scenario, to organize things so they feel good.

If things don’t feel good, then I am failing.

My biggest mistake: I have asked Charlotte to take on responsibilities that she doesn’t want, actually, to take on. She handles this poorly, to be sure: rather than identifying her needs and preferences and communicating them, Charlotte prefers to imagine that she can give me what I ask, she agrees to do so, and then, in the moment, doesn’t do so. Whether because she consciously decides not to do so or because she forgets. Or something else.

But the bottom line is that I’ve been asking Charlotte to take on responsibilities for me, and she doesn’t particularly like that. She prefers executing tasks.

She’s not alone in this. Responsibilities are hard; tasks aren’t. Responsibilities can impose a sense of obligation and yes, failure; tasks provide the opportunity for instant compliance, for that instant dopamine rush, with far less of a possibility for failure.

So – “tasks” it is. I’ll take “responsibilities” mostly off the table – except to the extent that Charlotte affirmatively, proactively commits to them joyously, rapturously, wet-ly.

And we are back to tasks.

This can be challenging for me, as I definitely have a tropism in the “responsibility” direction: as I’ve written a gazillion times, one of the most valuable things she can offer me is the commitment to keep me in her mind, and to behave in ways that demonstrate to me that – even in my most vulnerable moments – I am in her mind. But that’s not something she’s able to offer me in the current context. Or at least, not in the way I’ve been asking.

I’m not certain about precisely how to adjust things. It will be iterative. But we will find a way. Because we both are operating in good faith, and we both, at the end of the day, want the same thing: for her cunt to be aching, throbbing, wet, dripping; for my cock to be aching, throbbing, hard.

I need precisely one thing, one responsibility, from Charlotte. I know she can do it; I know that, at times, it’s difficult. But this is the one thing I demand: communication. If you say “yes” to me, if you offer me something, promise me something, then I need that thing. And, if you learn you aren’t able to give it to me, then that’s just fine – but I need to know that. And I need not to learn that you weren’t, aren’t, able to give me what you have offered me, what you have promised me, promptly, clearly, honestly, through words, and not through actions; in communications – communications initiated by you and not by me.


Charlotte: It the answer to this question is “yes,” then, when you have read this post, please show me your thighs and cunt as quickly as circumstances permit. If it’s “no,” then, when you’ve read this, record your thoughts in a voice memo and send them to me.

And a reminder: I asked you to complete a bunch of tasks for me. You have, to my knowledge, completed four. “A lot!” you said.

I want you to execute the remaining tasks. In order. Quickly. And to tell me as you are doing so. In the following order: 1, 8, 9, 3, 4, 2.


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