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Monday, February 20, 2017

What's that Sound

You were warned Master whispered into mouse's ear during the party we attended.  
Before we left the house as mouse dressed for the evening he came up behind mouse and touched her face gently, saying that she would be sure to keep to all her expectations and not cause any embarrassment.  

"Sir, why do we have to go?" mouse whined a little, "It's not like you still work with many of these people." 

"Never burn a bridge mouse." he said while giving mouse a firm slap on her bottom.  This is the first of several parties all in row that Master calls obligations.  

The party we were attending was not going to be fun, but mouse promised.  The party discussion would likely turn to political matters and that's why Master didn't want mouse spouting off. It's hard being one of those "liberal" people when you're surrounded by the more conservative types.  It started off ok, and several comments had mouse biting her tongue but she was maintaining herself nicely, until someone she thought she knew pretty well said something...and mouse asked for clarification to their point of view...

Secretly mouse blamed Master for bringing her into place where he knew fully well that she couldn't keep her mouth shut.   

Before mouse could embarrass Master (or bring thorough shame to herself) further, he intervened and led mouse away.  Outside away from earshot, he gave mouse a short brief lecture on not having an opinion. It sounds harsh but even if he doesn't work with them, he might still be 'working' with them.

The rest of the evening mouse treated it like a huge thought experiment -- people she thought she knew even a little bit seemed completely different now and she wondered almost self-consciously if she seemed different to them too?  Trying to channel her inner Michelle Obama (when they go low, we go high) or maybe her inner Scarlett O'Hara (fiddly dee), her inner Audrey Hepburn (A disquieting loneliness came into my life, but it induced no hunger for friends of longer acquaintance: they seemed now like a salt-free, sugarless diet. Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany's).  Yes, mouse told herself, go with Audrey.

As the evening wore on through a terrible dinner and useless conversations about political matters mouse turned her attentions to Master, who seemed to slip effortlessly into a conversation about something with a man he didn't like and mouse wished she could be like that.  Still she made small talk on appropriate topics and found out about a deal on a new wreath for the front door. Anytime anything even remotely political came up mouse made an excuse and left the conversation, by the end of the evening mouse got better at the pivot.

When it was time to leave mouse was relieved.  Master's hand was on her elbow and he was walking fast toward the car, with mouse scrambling to keep up with him.  Once inside the car he ranted about how foolish mouse had been earlier, and mouse nodded her head and apologized again for it.  Then he asked for specifics about the conversation and mouse told him they were anti gay marriage and probably against everything.

"Foolish." Master muttered under his breath.  He said he shouldn't have left mouse alone with anyone but mouse admitted that she was aware of how she should behave but didn't expect those words from someone she thought she knew.

"We used to brunch together." mouse explained. That was just a subject that never came up.

Making his way through the city and toward home he was silent, while mouse was nervously chewing her lip.  He pulled off onto a quiet street, somewhat isolated. and got out of the car went around and opened the door.  His belt was off and he bent mouse over the hood and deposited several smacks to her bottom.  Then he opened her door, and had her sit, he walked back around tossed his belt into the car and got in with a bit of a huff.  Silently he started to drive again.

Again, mouse was ready to apologize and he hushed her.  By the time we did get home, he seemed less tense.

Inside the garage he told mouse to go upstairs and undress and wait for him.  Nope, still annoyed.  Silently mouse did as he told and heard him go into his study. Upstairs mouse took off her jewelry, washed her face, brushed her teeth and removed her dress.  The corset she was wearing felt unbelievably tight and constricting but resisted the urge to remove it.  Instead took off the garter belt. Unsure where to wait, mouse went to the area before the bed and lowering herself to the floor, with her arms outstretched and head resting the position was actually relaxing for her back. The rings on her nipples brushed against the pile of the carpet in an almost erotic way.

"This is punishment." mouse kept reminding herself. Still the sensations swirled and aroused her.

Outside the room mouse could hear the sound of Master coming up the stairs and heard the door creak, he disappeared for a few moments.  His fingertips touched mouse's backside, running up her spine and making her shiver.  He whispered that the position she was in pleased him greatly.  Against her rear she felt something press against it something cool being applied then felt something else press against it.  He was inserting the large plug.  He sat on the chaise lounge and told mouse to come to him.  Yes, she crawled.  Then he removed the corset, lifted it over her head and tossed it aside.  He was nude and mouse could see his growing erection.  He motioned for mouse to position herself over the higher end of the lounge, and clipped some weights to her nipple rings.  The tugging hurt and mouse whimpered (each time he does this it terrifies her that the nipple rings will be pulled out).

He entered her from behind which was also incredibly painful, because of the fullness she already had from the giant plug.  As she whimpered,  he pummeled her cunt with his cock and told her to rub her clit.  That caused her nipples to be pressed against the lounge adding to the pain as they rubbed with the weights.  He took his time bringing himself slowly to orgasm as mouse edged painfully close to her own (why does her body love this?).

"Do not even consider orgasm slut."

At that point mouse bit her lip so hard she drew blood.  Tears streamed down her cheeks and still felt this was the most erotic thing we'd done in forever.  Pity it was punishment. Still rubbing her clit mouse could tell how wet she was despite or because of the pain, and cried out when he pulled himself out and came onto her back.  He used his fingers to scoop up his mess and had mouse lick it out of his hand.  Then he removed the added weights, much to mouse's relief and had her continue rubbing her clit.  He sat on the bed and watched mouse.

"Faster slave," he said, "rub it harder."

"Oh god" mouse moaned as she got very close

"Do you want to cum?"

"Oh yesssss Sir."


Trembling and now crying again mouse did as she was told.  He did have mouse wash his cock with her mouth and then just like nothing had happened he climbed into bed and told mouse to get in.  Beside him she tried to sleep, but the frustration she felt, didn't allow it.

Yet Sunday morning, mouse felt more settled and happy despite everything.  And she'll have to a chance to make Master proud in a few days when we go to yet another dinner.  

Nothing is impossible, the word itself says ‘I’m possible’!  Audrey Hepburn

Friday, February 17, 2017


Monday night, hours after posting mouse was musing about the rituals and how much she truly does enjoy them, but what happens between morning and night?  Does having rituals throughout the day help, or if everything becomes ritual, does that mean it's all really just a rote task?

Over the past several weeks, perhaps more than a month, Master has altered the punishment routine, while Thursday is still Master's night of choice to discuss demerits, he begins with having mouse stand in the corner, then she must confess to him problem areas and report the times she's failed to meet an expectation, he might add to that list other observances that mouse has missed.  The biggest change is that now, mouse must ask him to punish her.  Using simple words mouse must express that she's been wrong, recount to him what she did which of the expectations were broken, offering a solution of what she should do next time and then beg to be corrected.

The conversation goes something like this.

"Master your slave has done many terrible things this past week which are in violation of your expectations that you have laid out for mouse to follow, specifically not preparing a meal plan and going to the market without a list.  Those actions resulted in not having the needed food on hand when they were needed and created the need to make multiple trips to the market.  In the future mouse will make a proper shopping list and submit it for your approval along with a meal plan for the week.  To demonstrate how profoundly sad mouse is over this she begs that you punish her."

Then he will accept or reject the apology outright, or make adjustments to the recommendation made by mouse.  The meal issue was real but he rejected the added work of checking that the meal plan be submitted to him.  Instead he wants it posted on the refrigerator for all to see -- this also solves the problem of the age old "whats for dinner tonight." The he asked how he should punish mouse and that is when mouse answers "however it pleases you."

The begging part can go on for as long as Master feels is needed and until he's sure that mouse is being sincere in accepting and desiring this correction.  Then he will have her undress or lift her skirt, stand, kneel or present herself however he chooses.  Counting the blows mouse now must thank him after each.

This change has an effect on mouse that she hadn't anticipated, it has seemed to have increased her focus and now when she does have any sort of problem or issue, she goes to him right away with it asking for his guidance so she doesn't break an expectation.  This has led to a more confident and humble mouse and a much happier Master.  Strange how things work out?

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

The Rituals of Life

It's true that mouse loves rituals and has many, as a housewife and slave the rituals vary, but even embracing the most mundane task mouse finds herself thinking of it more as a ritual.  All seem to have importance to mouse, her waking ritual in the morning where she gently rouses Master from his own slumber by seeking the warmth of his cock and sucking it.  Then it's followed with other morning rituals, bathing, being bound in the corset of the day, plug inserted and bathrobe donned, mouse begins the more mundane ritual of rousing others in the house, making breakfast, making sure everyone is on time and out the door promptly.

However it's the evening ritual when Master returns home from a weary day of work that mouse finds herself most looking forward to.  Greeting him at the door most nights, taking his briefcase and coat, then leading him to his chair, where mouse removes his shoes, a cool drink is waiting on the small table beside the chair for him.  When she looks up at him from the kneeling position she feels complete.  It doesn't matter how dull the evening meal is or how ill-prepared mouse might be for that meal, the ritual helps center her.  It reminds her to do better and can serve as a reminder of areas she's failed.  In those few, almost sacred moments, the slavery to Master is felt the strongest.

Those moments throughout the evening, like bringing him something as he works in his study, they feel to mouse intimate and it brings pleasure to her.  There's a sense of worship that's held quietly. 

Monday, February 13, 2017

(Barely) Bad to the Bone

The other night, mouse was talking on the phone to a very old friend, commiserating and reminiscing about our shared past experiences.  She asked mouse about the time when we were kids and mouse would pick the flowers out of Mrs. H's front yard.  Now, mouse hadn't thought about Mrs H in years. A cranky older woman who hated that the neighborhood kids had worn a path across her lawn with their bicycles.  The older woman grew poppies in that yard and mouse hearing from someone, probably another child, that it was illegal to pick the poppy plants mouse decided that was exactly what she'd do.  Why is it illegal you ask?  Because it's California's state flower.  So each summer the flowers would bloom and mouse would ride her bike, through the path us kids created and grab flowers.  It's being bad, but only barely, although that was stealing and that poor woman's lawn never really recovered from us kids...hmm

It's like flipping your middle finger at someone or challenging authority, in some ways mouse is every bit as much as she once was.   Yes, she will drive 26 miles per hour through a school zone that's designated for 25.  It makes her happy to do this.  Even if she cruises passed a police car, she will refuse to slow down.  For some odd reason she can't fathom, it makes her happy.  

Later mouse was driving Master to the car place to pick his vehicle for service, mouse recalled the conversation about the poppies to him and admitted the 26 mile an hour thing too.  

"I had no idea that you were such a wild woman, mouse." Master said, watching mouse roll through a stop sign, "You only stopped for two seconds instead of three."  

"You don't know the half of it." mouse said behind the wheel of her Prius.  "At the grocery store, when we need grapes, i taste them before buying them. If they're terrible they're just put back but if they are sweet enough that people in our house will eat, they go into the cart and when checking out, I don't tell anyone." then continuing in a hushed voice, "sometimes even eating three because sometimes you can't tell with just one." 

"It is a wonder you have never been arrested." Master replied after mulling over the new found facts he was learning about his slave.  

"Yep," mouse said with an air of pride, "Just bad to the bone." 

At this point Master is trying hard to not laugh.  

"Once while driving at night, there was a duck in the road." 

"Oh god." 

"Yep nailed it. It was by the cemetery at the pond." mouse recalled matter-of-factly.  

"The Cemetery?" 

"Yeah, we used to drink beer and smoke dope there." 

"At a cemetery? Were you driving high?" 

"Oh no, on the way to there."  

"Of course." 

Finally we arrive at the dealership, and Master gets out.  He tells mouse to drive carefully on the way home and stay away from ducks that live in cemeteries.  

"That won't be a problem, but the store has a special on grapes."   

Wednesday, February 8, 2017

What's Wrong with that?

Finally feeling better, and spent part of the day Monday writing a post no one will see because mouse felt it was too political in nature (even though it wasn't political exactly).  It did actually get mouse to examine her own relationship with Omega and consider how fortunate she is that we're not in the public eye.  How many times has mouse frowned or pouted over something Master has said.  The look that has come over her face when he's lightly mentioned that was "one" demerit.  The change is often much a like a light slap that reminds mouse of her chosen place.

At his feet, mouse feels herself and purpose very clearly and when he's not around, she fights to keep those feelings within her.

Recently, in looking for something to post, mouse went through her draft folder, which is full of a lot of nothing, mostly beginnings of blog entries but sometimes even mouse can't figure out where she was going.  One post did however catch her eye, written way back in mid 2012, mouse wrote about an odd dream she had.  The unpublished post had a rare "editors note" from Master at the bottom where he offered his thoughts.

In the post mouse recounted a dream she had where she believed she had a small penis, physically she could see it, touch it, and woke quickly and even checked to be sure.  Now let's be clear, mouse is  and has always been completely comfortable in her own girl-ness so this wasn't about wanting a penis, but it was what Omega then suggested the loss of personal autonomy and being placed in a role of supplicant that had mouse dreaming this.  It's just when you feel your personal choices being stripped away that you long to not be so constrained -- so limited.  Time and again, as mouse looks back on her life she's shown that she's best when guided and does a terrible job of trying to steer her ship.

The learning to let go of that part of her mindset, that need to control little things in her life, has been surprisingly freeing.  They say all slaves should learn the freedom of the ropes, to get to that place where the struggle ends and they realize they have just gained more power than they understood they had before.  It's not broken or being beaten down but where you willingly choose to enter the cage and you willingly choose to allow the door to be closed.  Then you slowly realize that nothing anymore is up to you and everything is up to them -- the fear is now replaced with a sense of fulfillment.

Thank you Master for being constant and reminding these little lessons, are really so very little.    

Monday, February 6, 2017


The past couple weeks have been wrought with struggles. Pesky annoying colds and weather has been testing everyone in the house's patience. Finally the last person who got sick was Master so hopefully we'll be through it and the cycle won't continue.  

In the meantime, mouse is working on her list on expectations and pondering the line by line meaning of each.  

Monday, January 30, 2017

Words Could Make Wishes

The weekend was nice, and strongly quiet.  We had no big plans and nothing that needed to be done, except some yard work.  Master was relaxing and watching a movie and mouse was reorganizing the books in his study when she suddenly realized the furniture was different.  The desk used to be in front of the window, with the his back to it, rather facing the door.  Now it was on the side.  Still close to the window but now he could see out of it, from the desk.  Honestly mouse's paying attention skills are seriously lacking.

Later, mouse meditated and thought about what graceful means -- is it something to do with how a person glides into a room?  Or is it more an internal behavior?  Is is a presence?  The way you hold yourself in public and private?  Yes, mouse is aware the whole point of meditating is clearing your mind of all thoughts, but that's never been easy.  To get to the point where the focus is on one thought instead of 100 is good.

We're all flawed in some way or another, bad habits or things about ourselves we'd like to change or alter and each day we decide to either try or not.  In many ways mouse has failed at her slavery to Sir and has for years now -- she's a very slow learner.  Sir dismisses that as part of the learning process.

Two or three years ago, mouse was far more attentive than she is now or so it seems now looking back.  Maybe that's the change she really needs to work on?  Reconnect not only with Master but that state of graceful purpose and humility that seems to become lost somehow in favor of cynicism.