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Friday, November 21, 2014

Solitary Man

Daddy likes things the way he likes them, his clothing is in a distinct order,he only wears white shirts with his suits. Yes, his suits are made to order by a tailor. His car is immaculate, inside and out. It speaks to his sense of order. He has only one pen and he alone uses it. If someone else needs a pen they'll have to look elsewhere (once mouse dared to use his pen to jot an extra item down on her shopping list and he looked violated).

He's protective with his things and careful with them. He refuses to participate in idle office chatter, he's got a job to do and if the issue is pertaining to that it will be dealt with. He's competitive also, when he plays golf, he's usually the first to suggest a wager. He's not a man who relaxes easily and prefers to be occupied preferably with work, if not that sports. He will watch them on TV but likes to actually watch the game. It's not an excuse to be social.

He loathes parties or social gatherings because they interfere with work or sports, but he's rarely impolite about it. He's not in anyway socially awkward though and seems quite at ease. He just doesn't care for social events. He's not one to to out and buy someone a gift, unless it's under duress. Then he'll wander the store unable to decide and walk away with a gift card (which he believes is completely practical), and complain about the waste of time. He never keeps pocket change. The change goes into a dish on a dresser and when it's full, he rolls the coins and takes them to the bank. His briefcase, computer desktop, and everything else is so orderly, he could lose his eyesight and still be able to name where everything is. He can tell you exactly the contents of his wallet. He rarely uses a credit card, sometimes he'll use an ATM card, but really prefers cash.

On the opposite side, mouse isn't that way, her part of the closet has her things mushed together, in no particular order, shoes are rather tossed. Summer clothes ramble beside the winter stuff. The SUV is a disaster with reusable bags for shopping and other needed crap. Daddy swears one day a horrible disease will wipe out most of humanity and will eventually be directly traced back to her petri dish vehicle. He calls it affectionately "ground zero" and jokes about tetanus shots. Pens, pencils come and go from her life -- always without one when she needs it.

While mouse doesn't have pockets to stuff things into, she does have a purse, which was always quite honestly is a disaster. Money, loose coins forever rolling around the bottom, and it takes her forever to locate her keys. The wallet has so much stuff there is hardly room for cash. Then there's all the other things, stray menus from restaurants or takeout places, lipstick, a key to a lock -- no clue what lock though. Various medicines, like benadryl and cold remedies. Then there's an oddball thing, a plastic bag for sometimes if she has to remove a plug -- because she'll totally forget to have one and be stuck wearing longer than she or Daddy might intend.

Drawers are never neat, at least the ones mouse uses things are forever piled atop other soon-to-be forgotten stuff. Open a drawer of his and things are arranged neatly like tin soldiers in a row.

It's true, mouse doesn't mind social occasions and loves meeting her girlfriends for shopping trips and spa days. Most certainly mouse prefers entertaining in our home, but understands that's not always possible. Daddy hates entertaining in our home and going out. Unless its just the two of us or a small gathering.

How do we, a seemingly odd couple, coexist? Surely mouse must have the crap beaten out of her daily for forcing him to see such disarray. Nope, we both bend to reach somewhere in the middle. Daddy doesn't mind mouse has no system to her clothing, so long as they're respected and never tossed on the floor. He doesn't open a drawer of hers unless he truly must and completely gets the fact that tampons, while he personally might not care to see, are a fact of life. So are the brushes, combs, hair products, makeup, perfume and everything else that goes with her. In return mouse forgives his neatness and refrains from complaining that he's already replaced the cap on the toothpaste before she can reach for it. And he forgives the fact that he fully knows the tube will be squeezed from the middle -- and the cap, well he'll return it the next time he brushes his teeth.

He knows the vehicle she drives is well maintained, and safe for her drive, despite it might be a little unkept. Daddy also knows mouse will clean it out herself now and then.

One thing does remain clear, although mouse is fully aware that Daddy loves her, he doesn't always say those words. He will be first to admit that he takes it for granted that mouse knows how he feels. At times, when things are very quiet or settled, mouse will tell him that she loves him. He'll give mouse a squeeze if we're say, sitting on the sofa, or kiss her fingers. Rarely does he return the words. One of our larger arguments was years ago, when he told mouse he loved her after she gave him a blow-job. Guess it was pretty impressive. It wasn't the right moment for him to say it -- at least to mouse's ear. It was incredibly upsetting to her and he was completely caught off guard by the venom. Although mouse can't recall what she said but it was probably something like 'you go months without saying it and you decide when you're all contented after oral to say it then?' It took a while for her to calm down and remember that while he doesn't always say those words, he does show them. In all the things he does, to make mouse's life more comfortable and so she'll feel secure. That aspect has greatly improved, and mouse is first to admit she throws the words around a lot. So, really it probably means extra when Daddy says it. Because in whatever moment he chooses to express it, he probably means a whole lot more.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Making Choices

Many years ago, mouse made a conscious decision to be a slave to Daddy a couple years after that, Daddy always looked for ways to toss mouse off balance. To shake up the complacency she would often feel. It was three years ago where mouse wrote this post. Truthfully it didn't last very long but she would be less than honest if she didn't admit the idea made her hot.

The loss of control is something mouse finds very hot, at least in theory, in practice however...well, if she's very honest with herself, she finds it just as hot. It's almost sad. Being under Daddy's control makes mouse almost instantly wet. There are times when we just simply go without. There's always his control and it's often omnipresent, yet at the same time mouse will become quite complacent. Maybe it's just going with the flow? We just both go through our motions. Life gets busy, so do we. His control starts feeling like an old pair of blue jeans. Well-worn, broken in and very comfortable.

It seems we're incredibly well suited, since he likes to control varying aspects of his life. If he can take control he will. This doesn't mean he doesn't allow for others to make mistakes. Errors are just as important for learning. His style of dominance can seem downright oppressive to some, and yes sometimes even for mouse.

Yet, for the most part mouse does truly gets a mental lift from Daddy's control. It often amazes mouse how he'll just know when mouse needs a kick. We returned to maintenance for this very reason, he knows between now and the holiday break, he's going to be busy. Daddy won't have time for a lot of mouse angst shenanigans and the maintenance levels her out, helping her to better focus. While mouse does more or less handle the social end of our lives, she discusses everything with him. He insists on hearing three reasons why we should and shouldn't attend something. Of course what he's really doing is asking mouse her opinion and thoughts. He does take what she says to heart. Sometimes office politics however, unknown to mouse, gets in the way with her plans and Daddy says no to one party in favor of another one mouse has zero interest in.

Of course mouse isn't all privy to all the inner workings of his mind, but she knows and understands he's got his reasons. It's frustrating at times for mouse. Still, in those times mouse feels her slavery to him the strongest. There's a little part of her that is tickled when he expresses it. It excites her on this weird level. Just like when he comes home from work after a long day, and mouse kneels before him to remove his shoes and put his slippers on his feet. It makes her excited and her mind often vacates to that bubble of submission.

This is why mouse often why mouse sometimes becomes stuck, mentally when people who often haven't a clue about a power exchange dynamic make assumptions about it. That somehow it's oppressive and damaging to womanhood -- that mouse is simply a doormat. Funny, mouse doesn't see herself that way at all. We're equal but different. There are parts of mouse Daddy would never ever try control or even change. They don't interest him the way the other parts do.

Monday, November 17, 2014

She's Got a Way

Saturday, we went to a fancy party. Daddy hired a limo to drive us and mouse got all gussied up for the occasion with her swept up. Daddy brought out the pearls for mouse to wear. He kissed her neck as he helped with the clasp and zipped up the back of her dress. Honestly mouse felt pretty and it's kind of rare she really feels that way -- she just felt put-together and maybe a little sexy. Despite wearing her kill-me-now heels, she knelt at his feet. It felt like a good moment. Daddy told her to stand, fully aware she was offering him oral service if he wished it. This party was something Daddy wasn't thrilled to attend, as he prefers smaller affairs. Still he said that since mouse spent time on her makeup, he didn't want to delay the evening anymore than needed.

He escorted mouse to the waiting limo and helped her inside personally, it was a fancy kind with the glass in between the driver and where we were seated. Daddy groaned all the way to the party -- he just was not in the mood and really did this for mouse who was in turn doing this for a good friend.  At the party we nibbled food, sipped some wine and made the rounds. At one point mouse was giggling with some girlfriends and she noticed Daddy watching her. 

But when he looked at her like that, it made her feel very exposed and mouse suddenly felt shy. Like she blushed and became quiet feeling very shy. The way Daddy looked at her made her heart skip. Like being at the 7th grade dance waiting for the cute boy to walk across the room and ask her awkwardly to dance. Only Daddy didn't move from the spot.  

Slowly mouse walked to him.

Seriously she would crawled or kneeled at his feet, or both.

The rest or the time mouse stayed close to him. When we left Daddy put the coat she wore just over her shoulders. We got into the waiting car and Daddy slid his hand between mouse's thighs. His fingers entered the sweet spot, and she practically jumped out of her skin. We kissed, then he did this thing where he touched the back of mouse's head. And just like that, she was busy sucking him. 

Really lost in the worship, in that mental headspace. Daddy was rubbing her head, controlling her speed until he orgasmed. Just a block or so from our house.
Hair was a mess, face was horrible but the contentment mouse felt at that moment was the icing on the cake. Even if she totally avoided making any eye contact with the driver when he dropped us off. We made it to the door, Daddy fished his keys from his pocket and we went inside the dark house.

As mouse kicked her shoes off, Daddy went to pour a drink -- and we sat for a moment talking about the party, which bled into a half dozen other topics like the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday. He actually asked about the menu, so mouse prattled on about that. He finished his drink and we started upstairs. We were barely half way up when Daddy began unzipping mouse's dress. He pulled what was left of her hair down. He touched her face with those hands of his, and kissed her. Yeah, melty mouse.

He made mouse keep the garter and corset on, but mouse did let out a small groan when she saw reflection in the mirror -- holy crap, what a mess. Daddy wrapped mouse up and passed some time spanking her behind until she cried and then removed his clothes and climbed into bed.

Daddy paid mouse a wonderful compliment, whispered into her ear, he told her at times he can't control himself, like in the limo, he couldn't wait to have mouse's lips surrounding him. It's nice to know that. Especially that night she felt so sexy and happy. Maybe that's an important component?  You feel sexy and it shows?  Whatever it was a nice evening.  

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Thank You

While mouse does intend to reply to each comment, she just needed to say thank you to everyone who commented during the Love Our Lurkers event. A very special thanks to Hermione for hosting. It really does mean so much to mouse to know so many like and avidly read what she puts on here. However none of this would possible if not for Daddy who encouraged mouse to blog to begin with.

Thank you for coming along during our ups and downs. The times when mouse tortures herself with pains of the past. The times she's talked endless of how great Daddy is. The times she's truly hated him also. The twists and turns that have made mouse dizzy. Thank you from the bottom of her heart for being there.


Wednesday, November 12, 2014


Today begins the Love Our Lurkers (LOL) event, where we actively encourage lurkers who read our blogs and journals to actually comment. It's a wonderful thing. It also is peppered with a bit of sadness for mouse. We learned earlier this week that David passed away. His blog was called A View from the Top. While mouse didn't really know him personally she did know a good deal about by proxy. We traveled in the same blog circles, but rarely interacted save for an occasional comment. Although mouse always felt his style of D/s was probably close to Omega's -- it didn't feel right for her to reach out to him and tell him that.

What mouse really knew of him was through a dear, wonderful friend. They loved each other deeply, and through his style of dominance he helped our friend grow in ways she couldn't begin to imagine. David's death has left a huge hole in her that cannot be easily filled. This led mouse to some pretty profound regret that she never reached out to him personally and thanked him for all he's done for her friend.

What this has to do with LOL, is for mouse to encourage people to not lurk, but sit down, share a cup of kindness, and comment. Not only over the next few days the event lasts but beyond that. It's never about quantity, you don't need to comment on each post, but let us know once in a while that you are there. Don't let the moments pass by, because they do pass so quickly.

Monday, November 10, 2014

Waiting for this Moment

Recently Daddy and mouse went to a poetry reading, it was a series of classical and contemporary. One of the poems selected and read was by Maya Angelou, and called I know Why the Caged Bird Sings. It was admittedly moving to hear. If you know nothing at all about it, when you hear the words you understand. It's about civil rights, oppression and the reason the bird in a cage sings.

Through the years, many musicians, since music is mouse's poetry have sung about the bird struggling to fly, being caged as a metaphor for some sort or oppression. Like the Beatles song Blackbird also written about the civil rights movement. It's a song about freedom. "Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take this broken wing and learn to fly." Carly Simon wrote in her song, "That's the Way I've Always Heard it Should Be" a song that's a bit jadedly optimistic about marriage, "You say we'll soar like two birds through the clouds, But soon you'll cage me on your shelf - I'll never learn to be just me first by myself"

The band Rush described fame as being inside a "guilded cage." in their song Limelight.

There's an oddball common thread for mouse to turn over (and over) in her mind. Actually, the Beatles, Carly Simon, and the Rush songs were already inside her head when we went to the poetry reading. The odd common threads, birds, cages, oppression and mouse had been pondering these...well since...Omega proposed marriage. See, the Carly Simon song really influenced mouse, the cynical part of marriage mouse has seen played out by friends too many times to admit.

Of course, mouse decided to marry him, but still the idea of bird in a cage confused mouse and seemed to cumulate when she heard the poem being recited that evening. On the way home, mouse asked Daddy why he thought the caged bird sang. Not knowing where mouse was going he said nothing but asked for mouse's thoughts instead.

That's what he always does, soon mouse was musing outloud about how maybe the caged bird sings because it's happy. The bird feels safe, secure inside the cage. It likes being provided for and not having to worry about its next meal or the neighbors cat. It doesn't have to worry about being injured or hurt, or having its nest raided by another predictor.

At this point Daddy pulled off to the side of the road, sensing the meltdown that was soon to come and pulled mouse close. It's the confusion that happens in mouse's head. The mental tug of war, between the idea that her consensual slavery is somehow wrong. People fought for freedom and here is mouse saying that she doesn't want it.

Daddy stopped the cycle before mouse went too far, by reminding her none of that really matters. What matters is why the caged mouse sings and she sings because she's safe, loved and cherished. All the rest needs to be left behind. It was a good talk we ended up having .


Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Fuzzy Socks

Last year on a lark, mouse gave everyone she knew a pair of fuzzy socks. Not sure exactly why mouse thought it would be fun, but yeah. When Daddy opened his, the expression was priceless. He mumbled something about hoping to have dodged that bullet.

Twice he's attempted to remove the fuzzy socks from his life. Once mouse found them in her sock drawer. When mouse asked about that, he said he didn't want to her feel left out. The second time mouse rescued them from a bag on its way out to charity. Daddy said that mouse have radar or something. But mouse always double-checks the bags. You just never know what important thing might be accidentally given away. Yes, mouse's personal points of reference on that might be TV shows from the 70s.

Still there was an important lesson to be learned otherwise you'd end up driving all over town trying to track down the one thing that shouldn't have been given away to begin with. When mouse explained it and mentioned the shows that did that, he just smiled and said that mouse was silly, no one was going to drive around town to retrieve fuzzy socks. As he left the room his laughter was heard growing softer with distance.

It became the war of the fuzzy socks.

One evening Daddy mentioned his feet were cold, he told mouse to fetch the blanket, mouse said of course but if he'd rather she could get the fuzzy sock instead. Another time, when our power went off, mouse just brought down the fuzzy socks and he said he'd rather get frostbite and lose toes.

Over summer, the fuzzy sock battle went into a natural ceasefire. Now the weather is shifting. The warm summery days of early fall are replaced by much cooler rainy weather patterns. Came home from work drenched, his raincoat was soaked his feet were wet, some fool aimed for a huge puddle in the road and splashed everyone waiting to cross. It was the cherry on his sundae.

It had been a terrible day and he just knew driving home he was coming down with a cold. When he walked through the front door at the end of the day he just looked terrible. After helping him off with his raincoat, hat and taking his briefcase and placing them close to the fire to dry, Daddy went upstairs to change out of his clothes and mouse could hear the shower being turned on, so she followed him, tossing a clean towel into the dryer for him.

His favorite scotch was waiting for him when he got out and mouse dried him off. After he put on dry clothes, he told mouse to fetch his slippers. Yes, the fuzzy socks came to her mind, but fetched his slippers and put them on his feet. Then she brought him downstairs, poured him another drink, and had him sit by the fire, while she reheated up dinner and finished getting the salad done (now she wished she had made soup).

Daddy was feeling a good deal better by the time dinner was served and complimented mouse on taking care of him, and everything else she did to make the home happy. After dinner Daddy instead of heading to his study he remained in the family room, and watched a game. At some point after cleaning up the kitchen (which actually mouse enjoys doing) she asked Daddy if he wanted anything. He was snuggled down in his chair all reclined with a blanket over him. The problem was he's tall. Too tall for the blanket.

So mouse sprinted up the steps and came back down with the soft fuzzy socks and before he could really protest she pulled off his slippers and slipped them on his very cold feet. Daddy smiled and thanked mouse. Yes, he decided that he didn't mind them so much after all.