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Friday, February 27, 2015

Maybe it was the Roses...

Good morning friends, this morning we've got a special treat of made-to-order omelets.  We had an extra dozen or so of eggs a neighbor brought, fresh from her chicken's butt -- and some veggies that needed to be used or tossed.  As usual the coffee is hot.  This morning feels darker than the last few days have.  The only thing that bothers mouse, is it's already the end of February.  It's such a short month!  March is right around, quite literally, the corner and it's a busy month and long too.  

Even though all day Thursday mouse tried not to think about it, she couldn't stop wondering about her demerits and punishment.  No, she didn't go sneaking off to his study to look either, but it was nagging at her.  Reading the expectations helped, but also at the same time increased her worry. During dinner mouse was jumpy, so much so at one point, Daddy took hold of her hand at the table and kissed it.  It was that silent soothing thing, telling her to calm down.  

Finally the time came, and mouse slowly knocked and entered the study.  Daddy was reading something work related and didn't acknowledge her at first.  Then he put down the papers, and told mouse that she'd been a very good girl all week.  Anything, he feels under a certain number he'll just carry over to the next week but this week was entirely different.  He said that she had accrued no demerits for anything.  If she rolled her eyes at him, he hadn't seen it. There had been no talking back, her shopping list was fine and she stuck to her (extra tight) budget he'd given her until the end of the month with money left over.  

Honestly mouse just stood rather dumbfounded, as though she wasn't quite comprehending what he was saying.  It wasn't until he stood and gave her a hug it began to sink in.  Quite honestly, mouse cried a little when he repeated again how proud he was.  He asked her to lift her skirt, and he again looked at marks still there from the last big punishment two weeks ago.  They've faded a lot but you can still see them. 

Sitting here now, writing this on a Friday morning, with the whole day ahead, mouse finds herself not really worried, but hopeful that she can continue along the way she has.  Reading those expectations daily really has helped her.  Still she'd be less than honest if it there wasn't a teeny bit of fear in her that she'll completely screw up.  For now, she's going to try hold onto to the fact he's proud of her and hope that's enough to carry her through.  

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

There is a Fountain

Good morning friends.  Spring is making an early appearance, which is sort of unsettling almost.  it's too early for blossoms.  It's still February and mouse is already dosing herself on Benadryl to keep the sneezing at bay at nighttime.  It works and because she takes it at night it doesn't matter that it makes her sleepy.  The daffodils have mouse a bit worried. You'd think they'd start popping through the ground by now, but they're not.  Our lone tulip is.  Really must remember to plant new bulbs in the fall.  A neighbor has it so they pop up all year long.  One dies off and another is already growing to take its place.  

Recently mouse wrote in a post that she felt she was failing in those "submissive" feelings.  It wasn't a bad thing that was going on, as has in the past.  It was just apathetic feeling to her.  Everything felt the same. Sure, there were moments when she felt very connected to her submission but for the most part it felt...not dull, not boring...It's hard to come up with a word that encapsulates it.  

Now maybe it should be said, or maybe it doesn't saying, but mouse felt and feels very connected to Daddy and our family. Nor was what mouse felt like the winter blahs or depression.  There was no sadness with these feelings (really mouse needs to think of a better word than 'feelings').  Even as they began to diminish, mouse has a hard time putting them into words.  

Sometimes it just seems like we're all just bags of atoms floating around without a direction.  Lately that has changed for mouse. The path she's on, is the same path that led her to Daddy.  Of course, he's ahead somewhere, he's always moving forward and waiting for mouse to catch up.  He never moves too far ahead and he'll wait as long as needed.  

Maybe it's been the reading of her 'Expectations' that has helped mouse so much to feel more connected to her submission. Rediscovering the pleasure of her service and joy in her heart.  This morning as she dressed the breakfast table mouse realized she felt happy to do this.  Of course, she's also half asleep, but the pleasure was there.  That's what's been missing from her.  It has been a while since mouse felt that need to crawl inside Daddy, to just need to be that close to him.  To sleep with him inside her mouth or close to it, so she can smell him and taste him.  He doesn't sleep very well when mouse does that, but after a long scene, he really doesn't sleep much anyway.  

Monday night (technically Tuesday morning), mouse woke around three or so, too early to get up and begin the day, but Daddy was on his back with blankets kicked off.  It wasn't too cool in our room and mouse always says he's like a furnace anyway.  For a long time mouse just stared at his sleeping form.  The room was just lit enough that she could see him.  So she scooted down and kissed the tip and the next thing she was lightly and rather carefully pleasuring him orally as he slept.  Now, she didn't go all the way with it, honestly she was afraid she'd wake him up, but just held it in her mouth for a while, swirling with her tongue and smelling him. He grew hard (but not completely so) and can she just say she loves that feeling?  Then she just moved away from him back to her side of the bed, bundled up the blankets that she could manage and drifted off to sleep.  

When the alarm went off a few hours later mouse woke, and looked over to Daddy, still asleep, again on his back but the covers were over him.  After tossing a couple towels into the dryer to warm, mouse returned to our bedroom and began to wake Daddy.  Sucking him and he groaned (not really a bad groan), but he pulled mouse off him and fucked her instead.  In the shower he said he had really dirty dream.  For a moment mouse contemplated not telling him, but she did, because all those feelings that have been so elusive had returned.  It's a been a long time since she'd done that.  In her mind she could hear very clearly that rattle of chains and it's so comforting.  

Monday, February 23, 2015

Take Five

Good morning friends, we had a really nice weekend it's strange while half the country seems to stuck in an endless winter loop, we've been having some very nice weather. Pity the farmers markets haven't started up again, but we did all go for a nice walk and picnic by a nearby lake. Also mouse began thinking about Passover, and who we'd like to invite for the seder meal we're hosting. Another member of Daddy's family is hosting the first night, we are doing the second Seder.

The weekend, however ways mouse tried to distract herself was trying, but maybe the struggle is making her see her own flaws more clearly? Daily so far, she reads through the expectations to keep everything fresh in her mind. Actually, she's been reading them a few times during the day -- which actually is an expectation. It's supposed to comfort mouse.

Saturday evening, we found ourselves alone and Daddy took the opportunity to use mouse and objectify her a little. He pulled the shades, and had mouse remove her clothing, then he cuffed her wrists and chained her to her piano and forbid her from speaking.

Then he said he was going out, but didn't say where or when he'd return. Again, if she truly needed to, she could release herself, but like a good slave, she didn't even think about it. In the back of her mind, she figured that he was out picking up something for dinner, since we had nothing really planned. He also left the lights out in the room. There was something very nice about being left in the room, alone, nude and chained.

The dogs alerted her to when he was home but he took his time, doing something in the kitchen, then walking into the dining room. He was whistling a happy tune mouse couldn't place and it drove her a bit crazy. Sometimes she swears he can read her thoughts, because just then he turned on the house sound system to the very song he was whistling and mouse instantly knew what it was. The Dave Brubeck Quartet, Take Five.

Wonder if it meant a five minute break or something else?

Yes, mouse has oddball thoughts like that at silly times -- really she's nude and chained to a piano and she's pondering the title of song.

Eventually, Daddy came into the room and removed the chain but left mouse cuffed and brought her into the dining room. Then after securing her there he left her, while he cooked dinner. Close enough that she could hear everything he was doing but not so close that she could watch him.

Pots and pans rattled, he called out for the wine opener, then said he found it.

"Do we have any more garlic?" Then quickly added, "Never mind, I found it."

Then he muttered something under his breath. Out of all the things he could do, this drove mouse nuts, because really the kitchen is her domain, or so she thought. The sounds of sizzling foods had mouse genuinely fearful he was ruining her pans. Now, it should be noted for the formal record, Daddy does know how to cook. Still it makes mouse nervous because obviously she's got some control issues when it comes to the kitchen.

The use of the blender confused her. All mouse could think is about the mess she'll have to clean up. Eventually the kitchen sounds diminished and she could hear the sound of plate being pulled from the cabinet. Then different sounds, chopping or something like that. Another pan, the sound of sizzling food and mouse is focused on each sound and smell.


"Where's the mandoline?" Daddy called from the kitchen and then poked his head out of the kitchen into the dining room and said, "answer."

"We don't have one Sir."

"We don't?" he sounded surprised, "you mean you slice all the vegetables by hand?"

"Yes Sir. Do you need help?" Yeah mouse was going crazy by this time.

"No, I got this." Daddy replied. A few minutes later, mouse heard him say ouch and ask where the bandaids were hidden.

"In the desk drawer Sir." clearly fighting the urge to insist that he unbind her and let her into the kitchen, seriously mouse was slowly losing her mind. More sounds, cabinets being opened, refrigerator, microwave. Was he just doing stuff now to annoy mouse because she couldn't follow any of it.

Eventually he brought out to the table the food he cooked and sat. Steak, mushrooms, port wine sauce, and something that resembled zucchini. He moved back the chair, close to mouse but not too close and began to cut the steak. He showed mouse the inside, red, but it appeared uneven, then popped it into his mouth. He said it wasn't bad, then cut a piece off and fed it to mouse.

There's something sexy about this, being fed from his plate -- even if she did tease him a little about the uneven cooking, and the condition of the zucchini. He's good natured about things like that. He did arch his eyebrow though when he proclaimed the steak perfect, and mouse replied, "if you say so Sir."

"Saucy slave."

The port sauce with the mushrooms was quite good though, it seemed to have a hint of cinnamon and went very well with the steak. After him showing her his wounded bandaged finger, mouse giggled calling it an occupational hazard and kissed it.

He dipped his finger into the port sauce and deposited a drop on her breast, then he slid off the chair and licked it off. At this point mouse turned to complete goo. He tugged on the nipple ring and then released the chain. He helped mouse up, said to leave the dishes for tomorrow and we went upstairs.

Upstairs the shutters were still open and the view was amazing, the night was so clear, the lights from the city miles from us glowed. Millions of stars were visible. It led to a silly discussion that he thought was enchanting.

After musing about how many stars he thought were in the sky, he said something like probably more than he could count. So mouse asked how high he could count, then mouse said she counted once to 400,000. He asked why, and she couldn't answer why. Then he asked if that was as high as she could count. No, she told him that she stopped because she got bored.

Then she asked him if the large star was really Venus. Not sure if he even looked but said yes.

"Second star on the right and straight on until morning."

"Peter Pan." Daddy replied in that sure of himself tone.

"No, Captain Kirk."

Sometimes the silly moments we share are just as important as the passion and we had all night for that.

Friday, February 20, 2015

No Quarter

Good morning friends, why is it the best things for breakfast are laden with carbs? Or maybe those are the things mouse enjoys most? This morning we have some blueberry muffins and of course the coffee is hot.

Last night, Daddy had mouse enter the study and undress.  The demerits were light (yay mouse), he said he was proud of mouse for really putting in an effort.  Although she did start to talk back to him once she stopped herself, but not quickly enough.  He caught mouse drying herself off with a towel without asking him first and twice he found her wearing shoes inside the house (on cold days slippers are exempt). The big one though was again not making a proper shopping list and forgetting items. He showed mouse how much she spent on food, and the problem is that she can't seem to go to the market and buy one or two things, she walks out with 20 -- including foods no one should eat. He said mouse blew through the food budget for the month, in 19 days.  Yes, the rebuke was stern and rather lengthy.

He decided to use a the paddle on mouse. He's got many different things to punish mouse with, but he's got his favorites and the paddle isn't usually one he'd pick.  This time however it was.  After discussing what mouse should do differently, like making a proper list and sticking to it and ways of checking her "mental edit" he had mouse kiss the paddle, then she bent over his desk and waited. 

The sound was almost as bad as the first strike.  The air whisking through through the holes makes it sound almost as nasty as it is.  Almost like a whistle but the blows had a sting that made mouse jump. With the blows counted off, 10 in all, mouse was in tears by the time it was over.  Not like last week but just tears of pain and remorse.  After, she kissed the paddle again and thanked Daddy for correcting her.  

Now, part of her hoped that was all, but no, Daddy had mouse stand in the corner with her back to him.  There is something truly humiliating about this that drives mouse crazy.  With her bottom throbbing from pain and possibly more red that Rudolph's nose, it made her want to cry more.  As she stood at first, feeling sorry for herself and a bit angry with him for treating like this, eventually the real feelings of remorse came and she realized that she had deserved this.  The 'thank you Sir' she offered after the punishment wasn't really sincere, but more rote.  

"To me slave."  Daddy said breaking her concentration. 

He pulled out a handkerchief and blotted the tears under her eyes and told her to kneel with her hands behind her back.  He lowered his trousers and told her in an unceremonious way to please him. He's well versed in feigning disinterest while mouse pleasures him -- only his cock responds with growing more ridged.  It only lasts for so long, but makes mouse want to work harder.  

Eventually she feels him grasp a fistful of hair and pushes her deeper onto him and her mind goes somewhat blank.  The sounds of his breathing fills her and gives him away.  It's hard for mouse doing it this way because she wants to touch him to pull at his body, caressing him.  Thinking about that now, it probably makes the times he does allow her fingers to touch him all the more special.  

His orgasm was huge, or so it felt to mouse and after what seemed a long time,  he took a step back and pulled up his pants.  He told mouse to dress. Then he sat on the sofa in the study and called mouse to him again, but this time he pulled her into his arms and held her close.  More tears fell as mouse apologized again for the things she did.  There wasn't a valid reason for anything she'd done, and at that point she was pretty certain there weren't even excuses for it either.  

Daddy reminded mouse that she had done very well during the week and had remembered most of her expectations.  We sat for a while and mouse loved just being held by him as her tears finally stopped.  

"Stand up." Daddy said and when mouse stood, he turned her around lifting her dress and looked at her bottom.  It felt tender but nothing like that last week.  His finger traced a fading line from the riding crop or cane, it doesn't really hurt but the marks although fading are still there.  

This morning she realized, as she sat down and didn't feel a bite of pain, she's gong to need to be extra careful.  Maybe it's a little easier to remember to hold her tongue, when she feels she's been punished into the following days?  The sitting is a constant reminder that she did something wrong and it maybe keeps her in check?  Ugh.  It might be a tough week ahead.  

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Close the Door; Turn Out the Light

Good morning friends, we've got some blueberry pancakes, a real breakfast treat, yes the berries were frozen but, they're from our own blueberry bush. Painstakingly harvested and frozen by mouse to enjoy over the winter. Keeping fingers away from the wasn't easy -- ok, mouse has issues with fresh berries of just about any variety and cannot stop eating them. We've had a few nights of crystal clear skies with a million stars.

Monday was a really stressful day around here, nothing really bad, or terrible but just everything seemed to take longer than it should. There was a huge accident on the freeway, traffic backed up for miles. The grocery store was crowded. Checkout lines were long too, then mouse realized she forgot the reusable bags. The day just continued like that. The cherry on the sundae was when mouse finally sat on the sofa, during a fit of sneezes and the sofa was wet. It's a moment where as the wetness sinks in you instantly hope it's juice, water or soda. In mouse's case she just sat there for a second, shaking her head. Then got some paper towels, tried to dry it off, changed her clothing. Turned out a kid spilled a bowl of soup.

After finally cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, all mouse wanted to do was sit and vegetate. Daddy called mouse into his study, he wanted some tea. Normally mouse would drag out the nice tea service, but really she wasn't in the mood. Instead she just heated a cup of water in the microwave, cut a slice of lemon and plopped in a tea bag. Placed the cup on a saucer with the lemon beside it and carried it to him.

"No special service?"

Honestly mouse just looked defeated and he smiled at mouse. He pulled her into his lap and hiked her skirt up. Really this was the very last thing on mouse's mind at that moment. Within a few moments though he had mouse panting and whispering that she needed to cum. When he lifted her onto his desk and parted her legs and licked her...fireworks exploded in her head! Maybe the brain really wanted quiet and peace, but her body clearly demanded something more. When he captured a nipple ring between his teeth and tugged mouse nearly orgasmed. Fingers shot between her legs and mouse just purred for him. When he again kissed her down there and then paused...

"Do not orgasm, slave."

Whimpering, "please...Sir!"


Monday, February 16, 2015

Funny Valentine

Good Monday Morning friends! Saturday was Valentines Day so mouse was shocked when Daddy came home on Friday with a bouquet of Tulips. Saturday was actually quiet for us, we just stayed home, watched a movie Doctor Zhivago on DVD. For dinner mouse cooked a favorite special meal for Daddy. Also made a special heart-shaped cake -- red velvet cake with cream-cheese frosting naturally.

We talked a little about the past week, how at least on the blog Friday's are becoming a punishment recap day. Daddy gave his thoughts on that, which mouse found interesting, he brought mouse into his study to look at the demerit booklet he keeps.

It seems whenever he has a lousy week, he lets the punishment go -- it's not that mouse doesn't accrue demerits, she usually does. It's that he doesn't feel comfortable holding her accountable for them because his mood is already bad. He said he couldn't be completely sure he was being fair. Fairness is important to him. He also pointed out that mouse almost never receives demerits on Thursdays Fridays or Saturdays. Given what he said earlier about his mood affecting the demerit count, mouse asked if that was part of it? Was he going easy on mouse since she's just been punished?

He actually laughed at that idea and said no. He went on to say that mouse can be rather child-like. Children, he pointed out, are often on their best behavior the days just before Santa comes -- then they let go later. Daddy finished by saying he likes the idea of punishments carried out on Thursdays, adding that daily punishments might be more difficult for mouse to handle.

Sunday turned out to be an errand day for us, which kept us out most of the day. When we finally returned home, Daddy had work to do in his study and mouse had things to do for the week. We ate a late lunch or very early dinner, so mouse fixed a snack for everyone to enjoy, but also reflected a bit on our talk about the punishments. Lost in thought mouse also thought a good deal about the recent punishment. Yes, it crosses her mind whenever she sits but beyond that -- really sat still and pondered how mouse can really try to change her ways. Being held accountable helps, but she feels she's not really doing her part. Maybe that's why the punishment last week was hard to cope with.

Daddy broke her fierce concentration by calling her name. It was time for bed. Well, not really bed, exactly but time to go upstairs. Much later after some use, mouse just pushed aside the thoughts and just peacefully slept. This morning is going well so far and mouse feels very energized about the coming week.

Friday, February 13, 2015

Shall We Call it by a Name?

Good Morning friends, coffee and another banana bread is in the oven. Here's a little secret about our family. Aside from the dogs, nobody here cares much for bananas. We tend to roll hot and cold with the yellow fruit. This certainly will be last mouse buys for a while. Even though no one really cares for bananas the bread just never lasts. Today is alao Friday the 13th.

Honestly, still not sure mouse wants to post today and still processing the discussion and punishment with Daddy last night. It started after clearing away the breakfast dishes and checked her email. Daddy had sent mouse a message instructing her to write down the following expectation in her written journal. Yes, mouse calls it the penalty journal.

  • mouse will serve Master when or where appropriate and trust him.

Since he didn't specify how many times to write it, mouse wrote it once. Really, she didn't need to write it more than that. Moving slowly through her chores, not so that she would fall behind, but to take up time, mouse was uncertain. There was a 'newness' to all this that felt strange to mouse. Really searching her mind she could think of other times she's hesitated or even balked at something he's done or told her to do. If he was testing mouse, it's obvious she failed.

Dinner was good and it seemed as though there was a weight on the clock. Time moved painfully slow. At last, the time arrived and mouse knocked very softly on his study door. So soft she hoped almost he wouldn't hear. He told her to enter and to remove her clothing.

From now on she will take her punishments nude he explained. So she did and put her clothing into a neat pile beside her and knelt. Cannot begin to explain how vulnerable mouse felt. He did put her at ease by asking many questions. Did she understand his directives? Was there something confusing to her? Did she trust him? After hearing mouse's replies, he decided two strokes with the cane for each hesitation was warranted. Then with that decided he moved ahead with other demerits. Back talking, eye rolling at an inappropriate time, not completing a task he'd assigned. Only at that did mouse speak up. There was a reason and she reminded him again what it was. He pulled up the expectations up on the computer and read the parts about deviating from the agenda and what is expected. So, what mouse thought to be a valid reason for not completing a task, turned out to be an excuse because she didn't tell him until he asked why it wasn't done.

Daddy's always been big on the whole there are reasons and excuses for this or that. Reasons are valid; excuses never are. He tallied out the remaining demerits, and decided 8 swats with crop and the strap would suffice. For a brief moment mouse thought she was getting off light, when he added, "16 with the cane."

Tears were streaming down her cheeks before she stood. He asked again if mouse understood why she was being punished and what could be done differently next time. By the time he had her kiss the crop, her mouth was completely dry. Crying mouse counted off each. Then he paused for mouse collect herself, had her kiss the leather strap, and again she cried out each. Feeling like her rear was burning mouse again thanked him. Again, he allowed her to collect herself. Then he presented the cane for her kiss.

At one point mouse called out 8 when she meant to say 7 and quickly cried out 7. At 10 she really hated him. He continued. By the time mouse got to 14 there were only sobs that rather resembled numbers. Sixteen was barely a whisper through more sobs. After he put the implements away, he gathered mouse into his arms and let her cry. He rubbed her bottom with his hand to soothe the fire.

The quiet sobs continued, the wet snuffles and still he held her. He had planned (he said this morning) on having mouse spend time in the corner but decided that was more than she could take. Thank you's flowed out of mouse's mouth.

"Oh Daddy I'm so sorry." mouse blurted out, and held onto him extra tight.

At that point he took a blanket and wrapped mouse up. Daddy continued to hold mouse as she told him over and over how sorry she was, in between the thanking him for correcting mouse. Finally he helped her up the stairs to our bedroom where she just broke down again into huge sobs. Inside she felt turned inside out, broken and desperate for approval.

He filled the tub, and climbed in with mouse, with her body against him. The sobs quieted but he continued to hold onto her. Stroking her hair. Whispering how proud he was of her.

This morning, mouse still feels bad about the need to be punished, in fact that hurts more than her bottom.