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Sunday, November 10, 2019


This is a lengthy missive from me that I apologize for in advance.  I have learned much the past few days that I felt compelled to share, since it is significant and part of our journey together. I have been exceptionally concerned about Mouse of late. The crying jags, the sobbing were all quite unlike her, when I would ask, she would dismiss it as nothing, a song, a film, her age.

The doctors did warn me that Mouse could suffer some depression following her time in hospital,  this was not uncommon, and if it became worrisome, we could get medications for her. I had already placed that call to her doctor, unbeknownst to her.

Then I learned that my own siblings were manipulating (my brother used the term "gaslight") my lady. Filling her head with nonsense. She is always my first concern, I did not reveal my rage to her, just requested that she have a rest and leave it to me. Since she divulged to me what was in fact going on, she has not shed but a few tears. The weight she felt was immense on her, far too great a burden for her delicate condition. Again, I would be remiss if I did not express my disappointment that she felt she could not share this with me when it began. She said she did not know what to say partly due of my "history"with drug abuse, and not understanding my siblings true intent until that day I arrived home very early. I completely misunderstood Mouse's intent. She has assured me that she does trust me completely and I believe this to be true.

I have dealt with my siblings. They were well aware of my lady's vulnerable state, they had learned this from me. Three of them launched a multileveled attack on her. Filling her head with nonsense using the religion and a family angle as a crux. I believe they were quite self-assured that she would not reveal any of this to me but would rather simply leave our marriage. This nearly happened had I not returned home early.

I can surmise, they were not getting the result, so my sister dragged our late mother into it. Realizing that would hurt mouse. My mother adored mouse and did not care in the least that mouse was not a member of the "tribe." She lived with us on and off after our father passed. My sister would often bristle at our mother's closeness to my family. Jewish families can be cliquish and feel that Jews are best marrying other Jews, they can also be highly skeptical of people who convert to Judaism for a myriad of reasons that I will go into. I was never overtly concerned with my religion. My sister wears her wig, two of my male siblings are never seen without their kippah (yarmulke).

My mother believed Mouse was my "beshert". A word she would call my dad that means roughly destiny or sometimes soulmate in Yiddish. My mother also said to me more than once that I "should marry that girl," because I was different around Mouse than I ever was with any other female my mother had witnessed me with. I assumed it was the fact, I never brought many of the women around, few were what I considered acceptable to meet family. Over a twenty or so year period my mother met three women I was involved with and one I was not involved with directly. She never liked the three I had "relationships" with. The other woman was Mouse.

I should probably account for how that first meeting came about. Mouse came to my office, she had been doing some work for me and discovered the meeting scheduled for the next week was cancelled, which was very rare. After discussing the business, the topic came up about why the meeting was cancelled and I explained that I was going to my parents home for Passover (Pesach) Seder. The former Catholic girl had no clue what that was, so I explained it a little and she seemed fascinated by it. She thought I was going back east, and explained no that my parents had relocated to be closer to one of my brothers who had recently married.

Since she seemed keen to go I found myself asking her, couching the statement "If I spoke to alpha, and he agreed, would you like to go along with me?" Her eyes lit up and said sure. I nodded, I might have smiled, and went to him. He agreed, somewhat reluctantly. Then I called my mother who readily said I could bring along whomever I wished. I explained she was a non-Jew and my mother said she would take care of it. I made arrangements with the travel department, who also handled personal travel arrangements, and they got back to me with a new flight itinerary. I enjoyed that time with her immensely, having her away from the office and him. I learned a few things about her, more than we dated. I always enjoyed her whimsical attitude.

At the hotel, I noted that he had heavily marked her, probably to remind me that she was on loan. Some of those marks had to hurt, and it actually bothered me. I had marked my slaves in a similar fashion before I had left for airport, yet seeing Mouse marked somewhat unsettled me, still I went about my business of fucking her, many times. My siblings were polite and our mother made that comment about marrying her. She was not mine to marry but I simply said we are just good friends and tried to leave it at that.

At no time did my mother ever use the term "shiksa" in reference to mouse or any non-jewish female either my siblings or myself were remotely acquainted with. The reason was simple, our father was "sheygetz" the, often lessor used male version of shiksa, who later did convert but that conversion was held with some regard but also suspicion. To be very clear both are, regardless of what popular culture might try to tell you, both are extremely offensive terms. Shiksa translated means abomination or loathsome and sheygetz, loosely translates into repulsive. These terms are used by Jewish people to denigrate the individual who has the misfortune of falling in love and sometimes marrying a Jew. Interfaith marriages are frowned upon. I do not believe there is an Orthodox, Conservative or Reform Temple that would consider performing one. I could be wrong about that. Most who do engage in what is known as "interfaith" marriages are probably most like myself, the cultural Jew, who are not very serious about the religious practice.

I explained to my siblings the very day I learned of this that if my lady and our marriage were not accepted, they were no longer welcomed in my home (not that they would be visiting, since my home is no longer considered Kosher to them). I have no issue with severing ties completely with them. I went twenty years with only scant contact with any of them. It probably bothered our mother more than any of us but when she was dying, I decided to honor her and become closer to all my siblings and remained so, again to honor her memory after she passed. We are finished. I do not wish to see them or hear from them ever again.

I spoke to the one sibling who was not partied to that mess, and said much the same to him as well. He assured me that he truly loves Mouse and considers her a sister. He also was not surprised when I told him what they had done to Mouse. He has often joked about their zealotry. He had a few choice words of his own, none I could disagree with. I am also contemplating removing our daughter from the school she attends, since my sister's children also go there. Mouse has since asked me to hold off on that, since our daughter enjoys the school.

With that settled I read again the journal post and certain phrases jumped out at me. These made me consider how little I knew of my lady's childhood.

Years ago, I had the great misfortune of meeting Mouse's grandmother, who "Alpha" once described to me as "a hateful, bitter and vitriolic woman." He had no idea how Mouse was possibly related to this person. My thoughts were exactly the same as we left the house. From the time that Mouse and I had rekindled our friendship and later began a romance, which led to marriage, she never failed to call the grandmother weekly or daily as she became more ill. She always sent cards and notes, and to my knowledge never forgot the old woman's birthday. Nothing Mouse could ever do was "good enough" for the grandmother.

When the woman passed away, Mouse paid for the funeral, even after learning that the woman left all her money to various other relatives (none who she knew and never met) and her church. Regardless of this, Mouse and I ventured to the city and I watched as Mouse truly entered a den of lions.

From the pulpit the scant few that bothered to attend and were not there for the 'funeral of the week' spoke lovingly about the grandmother and insulted Mouse at the same time, using words such as 'ungrateful' and 'heartless'. One said, they were pleased the money went to the church because the grand-daughter deserved nothing.

She sat in the back beside me, her back straight and head held high. After that shameful "service" we traveled the short distance to the cemetery for the second part. The minister, had the audacity to question Mouse directly about her relationship with her grandmother. Mouse simply thanked the minister and handed over the check and said nothing as we walked back to the car. I could not get out of there fast enough. When I yelled about the shameful display from this so-called family, mouse touched my leg, and said nothing.

This particular area was nothing but miles and miles of cemeteries. One after another, and there were several florists, when mouse suddenly asked to stop. I obliged although uncertain why and Mouse got out and bought a small bouquet of flowers, the woman working asked if they were for a wall, grave or something else, mouse indicated a wall, and picked out the flowers. Back in the car she directed me to an area of mausoleums and I chuckled softly when Mouse called it the "marble orchard". Then she said to stop and she took the flowers and got out. She went to this shed area nearby and got a cup for the flowers, and arranged then she went to a spot where a woman was interred. Silently Mouse knelt before it and was quiet for a few minutes and explained softly, that this was her "Nonna"  and  she taught Mouse everything she needed to know about life.

I was suddenly grateful that she had someone in her life and then I studied the birth and death dates, the woman was around 90 when she passed and Mouse could not have been more than 5 at that time. I did not know at the time, who she was exactly but whoever she was, my lady found her very important.

There have been hundreds of times that I wanted to ask about her childhood the very few times I did, she was deft at evading those questions. She would speak freely about concerts or parties she attended, but she seemed awfully young to be so independent. At ten she saw Led Zeppelin across the bay in Oakland and all the times she saw The Grateful Dead. There was so many bands she had seen, from Jethro Tull to Steely Dan. I figured location, San Francisco. If I wanted to see a concert, I would have to venture to NYC the Garden usually. Everything she spoke of occurred outside the home, there was never talk of the more "normal" holidays, gatherings, birthday celebrations.

On a lark one year I found a Grateful Dead DVD, of a performance they gave in 1978 on New Years Eve, wrapped it up and presented it for her birthday. I did not think much of it, except she would enjoy it. She hugged me tightly and talked about the concert, as I sat listening I realized she knew details that weren't included in the concert film. We were watching and she suddenly grabbed the remote, and reversed it, paused it, and moved slowly and pointed to the TV saying "there's me!"

There's this very young, too young girl sitting in the crowd, swaying softly to the music (she looked rather high, if you catch the meaning) and I realized as I looked that it was mouse. I was rather flabbergasted as I learned that the concert went on all night. At 12 she had stayed out all night on New Years Eve. I asked if she were high, and she said probably, but was not sure if that was the concert she was "dosed" or not. Her parents did not even know she was out of the house (she shared that when I asked). Alpha once said that she had lived an entire adult lifetime before she was 18. The "dosed" remark troubled me, since she was so young, also I found that to be highly dangerous. She had shared once that she learned to roll marijuana when she was 8 years old. Next month our daughter will be the same age and that was a chilling perspective for me.

How could this be? When I was in high school I would sometimes go out, and my parents always waited up for any of us. We rarely stayed out too terribly late, maybe 1 or 2 am at the utmost. They always needed to know where we were going. There were always subtle questions when we got home. She was far younger.

For clarity, mouse left drugs behind before I first met her, I had once offered her a line, and she refused saying she did enough of that in her "partying days".Years later, I did ask if she had been to rehab and she said no; she became bored with the crowd, they were going no where and she wanted a bit more. Since she was not already dead, she may as well figure out what to do with her life. She had that sorted out by the time she was a senior in high school. Mouse rarely consumes alcohol and never does anything, except for an equally rare joint that her and Lucy might share. When it became "legal" in our state, they both could not wait to go to dispensary. They both said with some measure of irony it was more fun when it was illegal.

Then I read her journal entry where she described how certain buttons were pushed on her, the parts about family. She could never understand family because she never had one. That came from mouse, not their words, her words.

We were in bed, and comfortable, relaxed. We had just made love and as I held her I asked her to please tell me about her childhood.

She replied rather confidently that I didn't want to know about that and she added "that people always think they want to know stuff like that. But what they really want is to hear a nice lie and not the truth."

I repeated it for her to please tell me.

I am glad she was not facing me as I listened to horror that was her childhood and my eyes became damp, taking it all in, the Readers Digest Condensed Version of all she suffered. I did learn that "Nonna" was a neighbor, who left her front door unlocked so in case mouse needed a safe place to land when "home" became too intense.

That is a nice thing for someone to do, and if I were unaware that the women died when mouse was only 5, I certainly would have thought that was wonderful.

I understood now that a child of five needed a safe place to hide because the adults around her were such dreadful failures. People (I cannot speak of them as parents) planned to wait until she was at least 13 before they completely traded the final vestige of her virtue for drugs or drug money.

It was no wonder she was free to come and go as she pleased and preferred to not be home. The fact no one phoned the police is beyond me. There was no home. There was a rented house that held what little clothing they allowed her to have and bed to sleep if she dared. Over the years I have known mouse, she has spoken of home rather as a concept than a place, I now thoroughly understood why this was.

My mother could be in a room with hundred people and pick out which ones had been through what she went through. She said it was how they carried themselves and maybe behaved, she knew they had lived through the holocaust and was rarely wrong. She had told me once she had the same feeling about mouse from the moment they first met, but mouse was far too young. My mother could never really sort it out, if mouse was just highly empathetic to the suffering or had herself suffered incredibly. I now understood this.

Around three am I kissed mouse's cheek and got out of bed, making certain she was covered up and warm. I went downstairs to my study and sat reflecting on all  I had learned. She was apt; I did not want to know this, a lie would have been preferable. I could not pretend to un-know anything I had learned over the course of an hour. Had she ever told a therapist about this? How could she just bury it?

My mother, often said that survivors carried the trauma with them but it did not often interfere with their willingness to live (this was not true of all, but many my mother encountered). My dad would speak of the nightmares my mother would have. She also had moments when we were young. My dad was there to remind us that it was ok. We were safe. The nazis were not coming. Mouse had to have similar moments while she was still a child.

My next thought chilled me, something my mother had said years ago, the reason she rarely spoke of it, people would ask, and listen to what she had gone through, but walked away with a sense of near disbelief. This was as late as the early 80s. It was too horrific for people to process. They would engage in a bit of self protection, and tell themselves my mother had to be exaggerating, it could not have been that bad. These are not people who deny the holocaust; those are a different bunch, but regular people living in post-war England and later post-war America.

The American culture largely ignored it. It was not until film tried to show it in a digestible way that people became interested. My mother was tattooed, if she wore short sleeves a person noticing it, might ask about it. They would bring up a movie they had seen and would ask if was really like that. My mother's reply was only that it was far worse than anything Hollywood could show. My mother, to her credit, never watched any films about that, except for Schindlers List and she had tears in her eyes throughout the viewing. A bit of survivor guilt had surfaced. She had survived and her entire family was wiped out, save for one distant cousin. She wondered if they had a "Schindler" in their life, would more have made it?

Perhaps that did somewhat explain why mouse never spoke of it, if she outlined the whole abuse from her very earliest memories, no one would believe it, not in 1970s California. I also, do not mean to imply that the abuse mouse suffered was in any way similar or to diminish the Holocaust my mother lived through, however there are parallels of ritualistic abuse, which include, physical, emotional and sexual, I cannot readily dismiss. My mother had been correct all along about her.

I was glad, no elated they were dead, the whole lot of them. She is well-adjusted despite her life, which she has struggled to make sense of. The drugs she experimented with were a way for her "to better understand what could be more important than your kid." She had been on her own from the very day she graduated high school, when her grandmother tossed her out on the street when she returned from the ceremony her own grandmother did not bother to attend.

I sense her relationship with Alpha was part of that, and perhaps why it became so damaging for her psychologically? Maybe her ultimate relationship with me?

Life has truly taught this woman to not really expect anything from it. Perhaps that is why she sheds tears after we make love? She had resolved long ago to just accept that some people "get the Leave it to Beaver life and others aren't so lucky." Regardless of anything she is an amazing mother to our children. She has never once raised a hand to them, and has always made sure that they felt safe in our home and incredibly loved.

I was lost in these thoughts, observing the clock in the entry chiming the passing hours, when I saw my lady come into the study. I smiled at her and watched as she knelt before me and asked if I was ok.

I decided to shift gears, staying away her childhood, and I told that I had a few things to say to her.

The first thing was that while she was in hospital I called the "pets" and told them it was over. Then I asked if she had any questions about that and she asked if I really wanted this and I told her yes. I was thoroughly, committed to her and she was my only woman from now on. She whispered a thank you.

The second was half confession and question for her. I asked if she recalled years ago when I asked if she was interested in pursuing a Master/slave dynamic with me and she had told me yes. What I had not mentioned was at that time, I would have accepted vanilla. I wanted her that badly. I was willing to turn my back on my greatest desires to be with her. Yes, I admitted if she was not interested in that Master/slave union, and truly wanted vanilla, I had hoped that would change, but I would not push for that. She did smile.

Now, I was asking what she wanted.

I told her to forget what she thought I wanted, forget me all together. I asked what she really wanted. She has said time again that she would become whatever I wanted her to be. What did she want to be?

"I need to know what you want. What do you want to be? What do you want most for us?"

She said after a few minutes thinking that she really most wanted to be my slave. She said she needed me, to guide, direct and command her always. She needed to be corrected when she did something wrong. She admitted that she liked it when I was a bit indifferent to her, it heightened her awareness and increased her submission. She needed me to be me.

I would be a liar if I said I was not relieved and pleased with her response. I had been sensing for a while that we were on shaky ground where that was concerned. If there is not trust the dynamic falls apart.

Now I had rules that went a bit beyond "Obey" and beyond the expectations that I required for her. I do expect her to follow those without question and to trust me always.

I told her then that I believed that her staying with me if I ever used drugs again, was a naive decision. I would have shattered her trust and she was to take the children, leave me and not think twice nor even look back. She was to call Pete because he would know how to protect her. I need to believe she would do this. I need to trust that she would do this. Now, if I did reenter rehab and take steps to ensure I remain clean, through counseling we might be able to restore our relationship. I simply needed her to understand that this was serious for us and especially to me.

Once I had her word that she would do this, she did begin to cry.

I continued, unmoved for once by her tears, but offered a  pledge that I would far rather chew glass than ever betray her trust or misuse my position over her as her Master (or as a husband) in that particular way. Now that I knew exactly how her parents had died, I cannot go back on my word to her. Staying clean was important to me before and now it is doubly so for her, myself and our family. I have not used in a decade now, I have no intention of ever using again.

I also needed assurances that even if I were wrong, or made a mistake (which did not involve drug abuse), I needed her to just obey me always. If I say to Mouse, 'you stay at the lake,  then you stay at the lake.' Any errors are mine, and not for her to try to repair. If I need her to patient and wait for me, I need to know she will. I need to trust her.

My final point was that she cannot hide from me anymore. Not her tears, any pain she feels, her sadness, her life, her happiness, her joy I told her that she needs to be an open book and I need access to all those pages. I reminded Mouse that she is never allowed to lock me out, this includes physical door locking and now it included mental barriers. I did say at some point I might want to know more about her life, I expected her to share it with me. I also added that for now, I felt I had enough information and might not ever enquire further.

I  offered my word of honor that I will be the man she thinks me to be. I will try very hard to never disappoint her. I will always love her. She is now and forever my family. My real family. The only family that matters is the one we have created together.

Now she was crying the happiest of tears and they pleased me greatly.

This morning I woke after being pleasured by my slave; I was extremely pleased. I was looking forward to a quiet Sunday. As I walked passed the front door, I noticed two large boxes outside on our porch. I opened the door and brought them inside the kitchen, and opened them. Many years ago, I gave our parents a gift of Baccarat crystal, a complete service for 12 of water, wine, champaign and cordial glassware. Over the years, the original number had dwindled, but most remained. When our mother passed, I learned my sister had taken them. I had not said anything to her about this. It never bothered me. Mouse has a nice set of crystal, although not as large.

I resealed the box and dropped the first on the floor. Then I dropped the second box. By this time, Mouse was running into the room and I made an excuse that they slipped and I think she understood that was in that accidentally on purpose way. I carried them carelessly to the SUV tossed them into the back and closed the back. I watched as they slid around the back of the SUV as I took corners too quickly and laughed. I drove to my sister's house and dropped the boxes onto her doorstep and drove away.

It might not have been the right thing to do, but in that moment it felt damn good. 

Wednesday, November 6, 2019

Love Has no Pride

When I call out your name
Love has no pride, but there's no one but myself to blame
But Id' give anything to see you again

Master came home from work yesterday and found mouse a complete mess. Crying and sobbing and needing to explain something that's been just bubbling out that she couldn't stop anymore. It was just a huge flood of emotions. They probably scared the crap out of Him to be honest. Why was all He wanted to know, what started this? Sort of a song, phone call and a memory (yesterday) and things that happened on Twitter, of all things, (the day before) where mouse believed she had dishonored Master. It's all recent and the final part that sent mouse careering over the edge. Really couldn't explain it all without explaining IT ALL. All the "reasons" began years ago and just finally snowballed after getting a phone call from Master's sister. 

When she bolted from Him before years ago (around 2003, on the heels of alpha's death and working herself to exhaustion trying to gain approval in her career), she hadn't seen the drug addiction coming, she thought it was completely behind Him after He practically killed Himself. It was like getting hit from behind. There was so much fear in mouse back before she was mouse. Master was always Omega even before she knew that was the name she'd call Him, before she found the word that described Him perfectly and what was to her. 

He was so loved by her then and she was willing to be part of His "harem" (her joke name for the other women in His life), for the chance to be closer to Him, but she never got the chance to tell Him about it because she learned that He had been using again. The drugs were devastating for her learn about, because she'd seen so many go down that path and never return or never be the same after she knew she couldn't follow Him. It was the biggest mistake she'd ever made and one she regretted the moment she signed the papers on her condo. That moment.

"I wanted to undo it but I couldn't. If I had called would have you have answered? I was so angry with you and hurt and disillusioned. I wasn't sure if I had convinced myself into thinking you cared even a little. Why do people do that? They're just allowed to slip away so easily and it hurts so bad."

Even then, mouse had slipped from her normal speech pattern to the first person, using "I" because she couldn't' think of how to word it and give it the same emotion that she was feeling. 

When mouse caught Him using again (after we were together), she knew she couldn't leave Him, because she did that before and it didn't work. Instead she told Him to get help or leave her and instantly regretted the leave part because He might have done that. 

That's also why she returned home to where He was from the lake and broke His heart because He thought it meant she didn't trust Him. It was never that, it was the pain of being away from Him.  But after, she knew He was angry, so angry that she'd hurt us again and resolved in her mind that it wouldn't happen ever again. 

"If you had wanted me to walk through fire, I would have done it. Anything to get back to where we used to be. I will be anything you want me to be to have you. I'll convert if that's what you most want" It was a whisper of a confession from mouse. 

At this point mouse is on the sofa, and Master is crouching down in front of her and listening to this disjointed ramble that she hopes is making some sense to Him and she's terrified that He's thinking this woman has just lost the last bit of her mind and needs help or something. Master hasn't even taken His tie off or loosened it His coat was still on. He just came through the front door and got slammed with this emotional mess that is mouse now. 

It's every thought she's had for more than the last decade that she's never been able to thoroughly express because it's so real and so raw that it couldn't be completely said. Parts of it, but if she tried to say the whole thing exactly the way she felt it, she could never have gotten it out because the tears would have prevented it.

Master finally spoke, for all the trouble mouse has been at times (He was trying to lighten it a little), He's never regretted a moment of our lives together. 

The only question He had was why now. Why now? 

That wasn't easily answered, but she did her best to explain it. If He wanted her to try to convert to Judaism, she would try but wasn't sure if they'd even take her or even if she did His family would accept that she did it right. If that wasn't enough then, if He wanted to leave, He could.

Now she's crying again and beginning to unhinge. He calmed her down and said He didn't understand and needed more information, why was she talking about this? He looked mystified.

So mouse explained further because our relationship was causing problems between Him and siblings. His sister called that day to express that she felt that He'd be better off without mouse in His life and His brothers agreed (they had either come by or called her too when Master wasn't home). A lot of what she said to mouse made sense, because mouse can't possibly understand how important family is and should be because she's never really had one, except Master and the children. He would never embrace the religion as long as mouse was with Him, that she was preventing Him from going back completely. They all felt mouse was the reason that He would sometimes start and stop. Family is the most important thing you can have in life. They're your blood and they need you as much as you need them.

His wife "was just a shiksa and could never understand how important their religion was."

Now things were becoming a little more clear to Him. He didn't like the use of the word "shiksa".

He asked if she heard the part that He hadn't regretted a single moment of our lives together?


He nearly slapped her and said harshly for her to answer, and she said yes she heard that.

Master pulled mouse into His arms and held her so tightly.

When she was in the ICU, and He realized a possibility that she might never wake, He did begin to cry because His only thought was that "She would never know or understand how very important she was to me, how incredibly loved she was by me and how bereft I would be left without her. There would be a deep void within me that time could never ebb away and no one could possibly hope to fill." (His words Master typed that out Himself, and it's exactly what He said to mouse at that moment)

Master said what His family thought was completely unimportant and He'd handle it. He paused and asked if this was the only time any of them had said anything like that. He audibly seemed to growl when mouse said no, different siblings had called or came over, to tell her that and named which when He asked. It was all except one. And all since she came home from the hospital and He had returned to work. They seemed to know exactly when to drop by or call.

They had made comments before, but they were a passing thing. It had been like backhanded compliments, "that went well...considering." Then His sister said that morning, that Omega's mom didn't like mouse at all. And that really hurt because mouse never felt that or got that vibe from her ever, and mouse thought His mother did like her despite her not being part of the tribe, but maybe that was the real reason why He didn't want us to come back because she didn't want to be around or spend her last days with someone His mom didn't like. Which made sense because who would anyone want that? To be forced to be nice to a shiksa who ruined her son's life.

He repeated the part about what His family said or did was completely unimportant and He was so sorry that mouse was hurt by them, especially at time when they knew she was most vulnerable, He felt that was deplorable of them. He followed it up with a command, if anyone said anything like that again she was to tell them to speak to Him and tell Him about it.

Master never thought His siblings would meddle in His life this way. He repeated that He'd handle it and told mouse to lay down on the sofa,  He covered her with a blanket because she was cold and drained from the talk that really didn't last all the long once her tears stopped.

He said that He was glad He came home early, He would pick up the kids and bring home dinner so mouse wouldn't have worry about cooking. He wanted her to rest because it became apparent to Him that her recent bouts of complete sadness were all due to this, especially after looking at mouse's phone. He had been wondering what was actually going on and was getting concerned that mouse was seriously depressed following her time in the hospital.

Now, He realized His "well-meaning" family was making mouse feel miserable and uncertain about our relationship. But that wasn't her intent to make Him angry with His siblings, but to explain if the religion was that important no matter how badly mouse loved Him, she would accept it if He didn't want to be with her. Converting would be a dishonest thing and mouse wasn't sure that she could lie to other people and pretend to believe something she didn't believe. But if it meant us staying together and making Him happy, she would do that.

At this point He told her to stop worrying about that she was beginning to ramp up and tears wouldn't be far behind it. 

If you lined up some of the deep discussions we'd had, and added the context of religion, even though that was never mentioned by Him, Master saw very clearly how mouse could think that He was simply too polite to bring that up. He wanted her to be completely certain that religion was never part of it. He knew full well that mouse would do whatever He wanted. If He truly wanted a Kosher home all the time, He could have that. He also won't apologize for not wanting it.

All mouse can do is trust Master.

Monday, November 4, 2019

Taking Our Time

We had a very low key Halloween, and it seems our Thanksgiving will be equally far smaller than previous years. Master doesn't want his slave to feel overwhelmed by trying to feed a huge crowd. Our friends Lucy and Schroeder will be here, along with another couple Master has known for a long time and recently relocated the area. We've gone out a few times and they seem very nice. Of course, mouse wants to go out of her way to make sure they feel comfortable but Master keeps pulling her back a little.

Between us, when Master asked mouse to be patient, she thought she knew what He meant but it turns out He's having issues, not with the addiction thing but more a BDSM thing.  He's given up marking mouse's body, because it's not as satisfying to Him to do it. He likes to mark her so they last a while, as a reminder or because she loves to be marked too. Now, He no longer feels safe to do it. He never suspected mouse to need emergency surgery. Master has said now a few times to remind mouse that in today's political climate, He would be considered guilty unless He could prove Himself innocent.

When Master did accidentally come down a little too hard with the crop, He refused to allow mouse to leave the house until they went away (it only took a few days because they weren't as dark as usual) and worried the whole time until they went away. He was even careful when He did it too. He doesn't mind spanking mouse for punishments, when needed, or giving her a face slap when needed, but it doesn't do much for Him. What He truly loves as a sadist is to mark her, use her, make her cry or even be fearful of Him a little. He likes to have her feel powerless. While He can plug mouse, tell her what to wear and control every aspect of her life, all which scratches her own masochistic needs and ticks all her "slave boxes", it doesn't do a lot for His sadistic needs.

Master just said He's letting it go, but is stepping up a little more control over mouse and whole lot more treating mouse as a slave. Using her as furniture when it pleases Him, having her sit on the floor at His feet more often than He used to require. We still are enjoying the movies where He is under mouse and He holds her, occasionally even opening her blouse, so He can touch her more freely. The Guard dog alerts Him to soft footfalls.

Master has also cut back on His work schedule, so He said there won't be any travel until maybe next year and He's been home far more than He was before, which mouse has actually enjoyed. Most afternoons He's able to pick up our daughter from school, drop her to any after school activities she might have and attend a meeting. They both return home together.

One rather large change is that mouse is far more attentive at dinner time to Master's wishes, making sure His glass is filled, He has everything on His plate that He enjoys most, He allows her to dote on Him. Honestly, by the time dinner is on the table, mouse is not very hungry, because she constantly samples as she cooks to make sure the seasonings are just right. You have to taste what you're cooking, her Nona used to say. This way also she can be more attentive to her family's needs.

One other huge change is that Master's car is no longer suiting His needs. He's had it for many years now and it needs a bit of work that He's been putting off. He decided to trade it, along with mouse's running around vehicle and the SUV (because mouse rarely drove it -- it was too large and awkward). Signing that paper smarted mouse a little but her car, while running perfectly fine is even older than His and He offered no other reason for the change. It took very little time to clean out her car, because there wasn't much inside it, just the first aid kit, tire chains, and reusable grocery bags.

We drove separately to the dealership and He test drove the couple vehicles He really liked most and then began the paperwork process. Both are the same make, different models but both have more features that mouse could ever figure out how to use. Both rather surprisingly are SUVs although the vehicle mouse will drive is a little smaller and more a CUV but still suitable for taking the dog or cat to the vet, shopping or collecting the kids at school.

He joked a little during the process to the Man who sold us the cars saying He felt like a giant driving mouse's car. and the seat nearly didn't go back far enough for Him.  His car was beginning to hurt His back getting in and out of, but mouse said nothing. Once all the paperwork was signed by Master and registrations signed by both of us. Then we began the process of adjusting everything to mouse. Each car came with two Fob thingies, so Master handed her the second one for His car and took the second Fob for the other.

The first time mouse drove the new vehicles was when we left the lot. Master rode with her during the quick trip home, pointing out extra features He wanted her to pay attention to. When we arrived at home, He picked up the other SUV we normally use when we go to the lake and drove that back to the dealership, and drove home in His new snazzy vehicle.

It took a little bit for mouse to get used to, because it handles so differently from the older running around car. Master did ask if she liked the stereo, and said He upgraded it especially for her. The test drive was really unneeded because He had already settled on her vehicle. He felt the AWD for mouse was a better thing since last winter proved to be a challenge and Master said He wants her safe, and worried a lot about her driving.

At that point mouse thanked Him and admitted that she felt very overwhelmed by it all. It is a nice, smooth, quiet ride, something she hadn't noticed until she was driving home. Leather seats with seat warmers, which is a very nice touch and a luxury that mouse has never had, and the stereo sound was incredible. Also if she walks to the back and touches the back, it auto opens without having to dig for the key (fob) to unlock it, unlike her old vehicle which only unlocked at the drivers door. Lots of space in the back too, which will be nice for those "big box" trips she makes. Too many times she's had to open a package of paper towels because the back of her car was so packed and stuff them in individually because nothing else could possibly fit.

Later that evening, feeling a bit guilty mouse thanked Master properly for the new vehicle.   

Monday, October 28, 2019

You are Here and Warm

...All of the things that I said that I wanted
Come rushing back in my head when I'm with you...

Slowly mouse has begun to accept her new self. The new closeness has nearly made it worthwhile.  Only nearly because mouse finds herself wishing that we hadn't needed such turmoil in order for these important talks to occur. We hadn't had anything close to sex since September 14 and mouse isn't sure but suspects Master has never gone so long without it. Not a word of complaint has passed His lips. Master also wanted to know why mouse edited her recent post and said she because she felt she was being incredibly unfair to Him.

We went out to dinner a Cajun place He'd been wanting to try, just the two of us, a rare occasion to be certain, something we haven't done in a while. Words can't express how much it meant to mouse, to just be out with Him. We talked through the dinner, sharing bites that were incredible and He laughed as mouse tasted the first bite off her own plate and her eyes rolled and proclaimed it the best thing she'd put in her mouth ever. Then He said that He'll have to plan a getaway for us to New Orleans, because if she thought this was good, she'll lose her mind there. He said it's hard to find a bad meal.

After the meal, we walked back to the car and He noticed mouse trying not to yawn. He put His arms around her and helped her inside. He slipped behind the wheel and soon mouse was leaning against the window and nodding off, feeling so beautifully contented. Occasionally, His hand would brush against her cheek and she'd just lean into His hand, like don't take it away.

We got back to a very quiet house, mouse slipped out of her shoes and walked to Him, kissing Him sweetly. After an awkward beginning we found our groove together and making love with Him was tender and loving and it made mouse shiver and she wept after. Just that overwhelming feeling of happiness and love that swept through her.

Then after, wrapped in His arms, He asked that mouse not write about the details. "Save it for us," Master said with an extra kiss.

Sunday morning she was finally able to give Him pleasure and worship His body, and she loves sucking Him, tasting and smelling Him. Then she corrected herself after saying that was the best thing she put in her mouth. Since we woke so early we spent a lot of time lounging in bed, until we absolutely felt it was time to move. He talked a lot about New Orleans and mouse listened avidly.

We showered and He gently touched the scar and tracing it with a finger, and remarked it was such a small thing that caused so many huge problems. He lifted mouse up to Him, and soon right there in the shower, His excitement became very evident. Feeling the water, His body and her legs wrapped tightly around Him, her back pressed against the side of shower wall and feeling nothing but Him inside her.

Tears fell from her eyes again and He paused, asking why and mouse tried to explain it. We haven't kissed or touched like this in so long. It's like thinking you don't need that, it's fine the way it is and suddenly it returns, and you realize that you did need it. Badly. Saying the words out loud made her sob harder and hold onto Him even more tight.

Now it felt like mouse was shattering around Him as He held her, so tightly it was like He was holding her together. We used up all the hot water. It was as though mouse's heart just exploded with love for Master. 

Friday, October 25, 2019

You'll Always Go Along

Defend Him when He's wrong, And tell Him when He's strong
He is wonderful
He'll always need your love, and so, He'll get your love
A Man who needs your love,
can be wonderful.

Those first few days that mouse was home from the hospital, Master slipped behind her when on the couch and we watched movies, when He wasn't busy with other things. One of the musicals we watched was The King and I. He chuckled a few times at mouse as she watched it. Then the tears fell listening to this song. The tears baffled Him but He gave her a kiss and wiped them away.

We talked a lot between the movies, or during them if He found them dull. We had an entire discussion through Dr Zhivago, it's a movie He freely admits is dull. Well, it is a little long. All mouse remembers was us talking and that love theme, whatever, playing in the background. The music.

<Segment removed -- by mouse because she's stupid>

Years ago, when the blog was new, He would often remark that He sometimes felt a little blindsided by mouse after reading a post she wrote. Now, she kinda gets it. When she read His post about His past drug use on Tuesday it left mouse a little unsettled. Like somehow reading His words suddenly made it feel differently to her. He's always been quick to believe that mouse only sees the worst in Him? Master has been a little down lately, like the discussions highlighted for Him areas where He feels He's failed mouse.

Never once was mouse ashamed of Him or felt that He failed mouse and never stopped trusting or loving Him either. Master was the Man who picked her, through His strength and His courage, she saw He was completely right when He said that she needed therapy too to cope with her past issues. Just like Master bravely tackles His own issues with the same level of commitment that He used to encourage mouse to get help.

It angered her when she learned of it initially a long, long time ago and told Him then that she wouldn't hang around to see Him blow up His whole life. And didn't. He was in rehab and mouse quit her job, sold her home, and was packing up to leave by the time He got out back then. Phone disconnected, without even a goodbye. A clean break from Him and the past.

Or so she thought.

Maybe the universe wasn't finished with us? We ended up together, it's been a wonderful ride so far and we've only just begun (yes another song). Plenty more pages and chapters to fill in our book (or blog) and she trusts Him completely to guide her and if He'll allow it, to help Him too along the way. Whatever He wishes for us to be or for mouse to be, so it will be. Etcetera, etcetera..

Sometimes taking a curve in the road a little too fast, the car fishtails a little and for a moment you hope that letting your foot off the gas will be enough to regain control.

For some reason Master didn't find that analogy (not sure if that was even the word He used) very comforting, did mouse see our life as car careening out of control? The reply was more an indifferent shrug because it just happens. One day you wake up and find out instead of a few hours passed, you lost a whole week. It's just life.

Of course, mouse added with a hug, she doesn't have to worry about regaining control of the car -- that's His job. 

Tuesday, October 22, 2019

A decade

Nearly a decade has passed since I entered rehab the last time. I still attend Narcotic Anonymous  meetings, although not regularly, until recently. I stand up and tell my story of drug addiction. I have hurt myself, my body, but more than that I hurt people who knew me, trusted me and for some reason that I often cannot easily grasp continued to believe in me. Being type 1 diabetic and drug addict was not a good combination, at 39 I suffered a heart attack, triggered by a combination of cocaine and MDMA, commonly known as "Molly" or "Ecstasy." I "rolled" into hospital. I was lucky to have survived.

Without dredging up all my sordid details, we will simply say that I had a big problem. Oddly, when I was doing coke, I never mixed alcohol, so I can still drink but not a lot nor often for the diabetic reason. Alcohol upsets my blood sugar balance and the older I become, the less eager I am to die. I take care of myself, eat right, get exercise, and I am still an addict, albeit a recovering one.

For years I had not considered in a fully formed way to use again. While my lady was hospitalized, the thought never once entered my mind. My only focus was on her. When she woke, again, no such thoughts entered my mind. My brother never once asked. I remain astutely confident he wanted to.

When Mouse came home from hospital, with pain medication, I will admit the temptation began, but I knew she needed them. I still did not consider it, until the crisis seemed to have passed.

After returning to work, I returned to NA meetings. The strain of it all (her illness and recovery) challenged my resolve. Mouse caught me looking at the bottle of pills one morning, they were sitting on the counter, beside the antibiotic and I was a bit lost in a recurring thought. They gave her 10 Vicodin and she took three or four. Mentally, I was going through the ideas of how to use whatever was left, Vicodin on its own is rather mild, but the high is decent if you snort them, something I had done before following knee surgery that sent me back into rehab the last time. It had slipped my mind to tell my surgeon I was a recovering addict and they prescribed Oxycodone and Vicodin following a knee replacement surgery.

When Mouse uncovered the truth she did give an ultimatum, "Get your shit together or get the fuck out." When truly frustrated and disappointed, my lady rarely minces her words.

That morning these were thoughts I could not stop. When I returned home from work that day, the pills had vanished. She gave them to Lucy, as she did not want them in the house anymore. It was not that she did not trust me, she said, but we both knew that was a lie.

I told her that I would be back in a couple hours and went to a meeting, my second of the day. I can only imagine what she thought or was thinking. I told her when I got home but she wanted to know why I had not told her before I left.

She knew. Sure, I made the right choice, I did not act out, but the thought was there, and we both knew it. I had driven around deciding if I wanted to use or if I would just ramble into a meeting. I wish the decision were an easier one. I decided then to reenter therapy, and continue with the meetings.

Allow me to reintroduce myself, "Hello, my name is "Omega" and I am an addict."

Monday, October 21, 2019

Editing Error

I went about this late morning to edit a few old posts of mine. Somehow the date became fouled, so I have removed them until I have the time (or a vague notion) of how to set them right. I blame the head cold she decided to share with me.

These were all my former posts from back in the day when I kept a small journal that was separate from her own and eventually merged together.

Mouse's many words remain unedited by me.

Apologies for any confusion this caused.