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Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Daddy's Girl

We can assume that Sir really is back to being Daddy.  Let's be a bit a clear for clarities sake, he's never once stopped being Daddy.  It's just for mouse and all her weirdness, she needed for a while for him to be Sir.  It's not easily explained except that this was where mouse needed to be, and to draw a distinct line between Omega the Sir and Omega the Daddy Dom.  

One thing he asked is that mouse try to explain why she made the switch, he understood the need to compartmentalize a little (ok, maybe a lot) the different facets or our relationship, but the reasoning he felt was never clear to readers. Even now, mouse is at a loss to explain why.  As wrong as it might sound, her trust in him was shaken many, many months ago.  It's taken mouse a long to realize that was the main problem between us or maybe just to admit it to herself. Through all of mouse's inner turmoil and angst he really never stopped being Daddy and giving mouse to space to work through her issues and rebuild the confidence in him again.   Why she blamed him?  That's a tough one. It really does go back to when mouse was cornered in the bathroom at that restaurant.  If he hadn't been doing whatever it was that set off their radar, it simply wouldn't have happened and months later being punished for his assumption that she threw out that evil lube didn't help.  

So, maybe for mouse in order to continue growing, she simply had to put Daddy aside for while and just reinforce that he is Sir? It helped to reaffirm that he does have her best interests at heart.  While he's not the easiest person to get along with, and does at times seem rather fixed and cold -- he does manage quite well with making mouse feel incredibly safe and warm.  Those are good feelings that cannot be discounted or shut away.  

Monday, September 29, 2014


Early Friday Morning mouse woke to the empty bed, Sir had been gone the whole week and felt completely untethered to him, adrift without a purpose or direction.  Dishes were stacked in the sink, the carpet not vacuumed since the last time the housekeeper appeared but Friday, he was coming home at some point.  Later Sir sent a text from the airport.  He had a lengthy layover at another airport but felt he should be home around 11PM or so our local time. Honestly mouse couldn't wait for him to be home where he belonged because she needed him.  

During those several hours, mouse ran a few errands, cleaned up the house, and got things in order but had that naggy feeling she was forgetting something.  Oh, enema and plug!  Really after going all week...How could she forget that?  Thank goodness she didn't completely forget it all together -- it wouldn't be good to start after our week apart on a bad forgetful note.  After feeling so out of touch and everything as mouse inserted the plug she began to cry.  There was this unspeakable feeling of relief that just came out.  This strong feeling of comfort, renewal?  Surrender.

Surrendering again and again to Sir's control, his wishes and desires had mouse all aflame.  When he sent a text that he'd landed, mouse began lighting candles all over the house to welcome him home.  One candle we keep by the entryway was lit each night while he was away.  Late each evening at her bedtime she'd blow it out and send him a text, then make her way up the stairs to the bedroom we share and the big empty bed.

When mouse saw the taxi coming from way down the street she practically screamed, but waited almost in a moment of disbelief.  Was it really him or just random vehicle that happened to be orange coming down the street?  It was him! Daddy was home!  Things were waiting for him, a cool towel, a light snack and a glass of ice tea.   At that moment the most natural place in the world for mouse was on her knees listening to him talk about his trip.  Later in bed after some nice use, Daddy listened as mouse prattled on about her week without him.  Nothing exciting to report but just the little bits he'd missed.  

Monday, September 22, 2014


There were many times, while we were away during quiet moments that mouse almost instinctively picked up her tablet, forgetting for a moment we had no Internet connection. As evening fell, more than once, mouse mentioned the blog and fellow bloggers to Sir. When we were busy, it was simple to forget it all, but when we weren't...

Sir's solution was anytime mouse mentioned missing the blog or Internet in general Sir redirected her attentions when possible. Sometimes with a generous spank, or oral attention. It, oddly, became a bit of that mouse would think about the blog, and become wet!  Actually not only then, he'd get that glint in his eye and mouse would become wet, when he spanked her...Yeah...Then he began something that has continued...Orgasm control -- Omega style.

He doesn't restrict orgasms, really, he just doesn't give opportunity for one -- it takes mouse a long time to ramp up to a nice big orgasm -- well in the beginning it did.  Sir's response was to keep mouse feeling a bit sexually needy. Not really unsatisfied but he controlled how he used her -- Objectifying her a little.  It also didn't help it's summer and while mouse loves it when he lays all over her in the cooler months and gravitates toward him, when it's warm like during the summer we're both more or less, "stay on your own side of the bed."

Until at least, the air in the room cools and we begin to migrate or like magnets that have switched their polarity from repel to attract.  Still at the height of summer, we would wake on opposite sides of the bed and often he'd tease mouse as she pleasured him orally.  Sure there were smallish orgasms, peppered throughout the summer months, but they remained few enough that she felt sexy all the time.  When mouse feels sexy -- she's softer, gentler, maybe more feminine feeling.

This also brought him opportunities for punishment.  Now, lets be clear it wasn't a "real punishment" but he doesn't need a excuse of mouse being bad to punish her either.  One morning, mouse woke up touching herself down there and was caught by Sir in a "What are you doing?" moment.  He was amused but punished mouse by binding her hands together for the next several nights.  That just increased the need mouse felt.  A few weeks later, he woke to find mouse attempting to hump his leg.  Just to hit that area just right.  Like an itch needing a scratch.  On occasion he would give mouse a minute or two to touch herself or debauch herself on the gear shift of the SUV and then he'd make her lick it clean afterward.  When the orgasm was finally allowed -- the intensity was a huge wave and amazing. To be honest, mouse would rather have ONE super amazing squirty orgasm a month, than many 'meh' orgasms.  Ok, maybe more than one a month but that's not really the point.  The orgasms during subspace are intoxicating to mouse when her mind is set free and her body just responds to a word or touch and everything feels ah so supercharged and electric.  The blend of pain and pleasure is almost too much to handle and the orgasms just fall out in wave after wave.  

Shifting sands dictated that Sir must travel a bit for work so again she feels adrift.  The latest expectation (being completely enforced) is that mouse isn't allowed to touch toys without permission and he's already said permission will NOT be granted until the day he returns -- so don't bother asking.  No plug, nothing during that time.  He does expect mouse to enema on the day he returns and insert a plug then.   

Yesterday, as he packed for his trip, mouse watched feeling unsettled and yes, a bit sorry for herself. This wasn't fair for him to leave behind a pouty wife and mouse tried to pull up the big girl panties but just couldn't. Sir took out the cane and made mouse kiss it. Then he gave her several stripes across her backside and thighs -- yes she cried, bit down, surrendered, after he used mouse as his cherished object and the orgasm just exploded within her. Then he whispered into her ear that he'll be back before the marks have faded.

Monday, September 15, 2014

On Her Knees

Early on during our time away, after waking very early before dawn and unable to fall back asleep, mouse slipped from the bed and padded off to the kitchen. It's nice when the house is still -- doesn't matter where we are, it's just a nice comfortable quiet. Wearing only her pajamas Sir requires, mouse walked outside. The deck beneath her feet wasn't warm, or cold, comfortable, yet damp from dew.

It was dark, the birds only just beginning their alerts of the coming day and mouse sipped the coffee she just made and lost in thought about dreams and random things. Startling her, hearing the sound of Sir's voice snd whipping around to the direction of it, mouse smiled. Embarrassed perhaps of being caught outdoors in her pajamas. Sir was leaning against the porch, his hair mussed and wearing his boxers. He woke to an empty bed, and decided to search for his wayward slave.

He declined coffee, and instead told her to kneel. It wasn't a request, but a command or maybe a demand, but delivered in his normal abrupt yet matter-of-fact tone. At that moment, mouse balked, with the "what if's" playing through her mind. He repeated the command for her to kneel and without too much more hesitation she did but some distance from him. That seemed to amuse him a little a bit of unexpected from the slave. He questioned if she trusted him. Of course she did. He moved toward her lowering slightly his boxers and took her head to guide her mouth to him. There in semi-public view mouse pleasured him orally.

Sir orgasmed as the sun was rising, which somehow seemed appropriate. He reminded mouse to always trust him -- he knew everyone was still fast asleep and there wasn't any concern of being caught. Soon the only sound heard above the birds was the sound Sir's hand swatting hard, the bare backside of mouse, and her muffled cries.

After the punishment was carried out, Sir asked if mouse had given herself an enema yet. Upon hearing the answer we returned to the house and went into the bathroom. He pulled out the equipment and filled the enema bag, he had mouse assume the position and inserted the tip himself. There was something fitting and debasing about all this that had mouse knocked off balance.

Sir remained to observe the whole thing, and after proper cleaning was achieved he inserted the larger plug into her. A haze settled into mouse's thoughts, clouding everything and that continued until much later in the day when Sir whispered that it was time for the plug to be removed. Finding a quiet, discrete moment during the day is often difficult but Sir had planned for this. Everyone was out.

Inside the bedroom Sir watched as the plug was removed, washed and stowed away, then again watched as his slave undressed completely, kissed the leather strap and cried as she felt it fall across her breasts. Soon her body was pink, verging on red and on fire for Sir. He allowed her to slip into that comfortable space and fucked her soundly in the ass. Without hesitation mouse cleaned him off with her mouth.

Now mentally drained and vacant, Sir tied mouse up and allowed her to rest, when she woke, there was no sign of the rope, or anything else, save for mouse still being nude. A note beside the pillow scrawled by Sir instructing her to dress, eat a little something and relax until he returned. After another brief maintenance spanking, given to mouse as we walked on a trail, he asked for mouse to compose some thoughts about their day so far. While Sir is always very economical with his words, mouse is not, meandering around thoughts until finally reaching the point. Sir is patient with her this time, and allows her to speak. Being used outside while yes, exciting (in that naughty way) also upset her and even made her a teeny bit angry with him.

It wasn't that he was using her as an object (or maybe it was), it was about doing what probably should be a private act in a public way. Sir pointed out there wasn't an audience and it was hardly public. Why was it, to mouse, ok to spanked way out here a good few miles from home? Was this area more private? Did it meet an unseen or unrecognized criteria? To make a point Sir cleared away some dead brush with his shoe and instructed mouse to kneel at his feet. Unzipping his shorts he touched himself, but this time with his other hand he lifted her teeshirt and fondled her breasts tugging on the nipple rings. Then he instructed mouse to masturbate, right there on the trail.

Sir asked if mouse were wet. Such a simple question that somehow made her cry out a betrayal that yes she was.

The whole thing made her feel angry, humiliated, debased, aroused and confused. He told her to pick one emotion or feeling and expand it. Humiliation was what she chose, which bled into anger with him. Calmly he listened, then used her there still in the woods. What if someone found us? Nobody did, but wasn't out of the question. He laughed saying it was far more likely that we'd end up with poison ivy than being "caught".

No worries though about that. What would be the worst? We could survive a little embarrassment. We continued talking as we walked back and mouse relaxed. It was about letting go of fear and trust him. Trusting that he would guide mouse, keep her safe and show her that there wasn't anything to really fear. In the end those moments of that day while we were alone, was important to mouse and had great value to her.

Eventually, the area became increasingly likely of being discovered so he immediately suspended our walks, and resumed the maintenance elsewhere. But each time, there was more trust afforded him. In some ways that thought upset mouse;didn't she trust him before? The confidence [in him] had been shaken, but now even mouse saw how silly that was. No real harm had been done. The very worst was a few salacious eyebrow waggles from someone who was unsure what happened anyway.


Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Thanks to Tori

Thanks to tori for asking some great questions in our last post.  We've always kinda prided ourselves on being a blog that's more or less safe for work.   Meaning you can open the page and know you're not going to be smacked in the face with something BDSM-y.

Tori asked about enemas and plugs and as mouse pondered a reply she realized it could make a blog post.  The problem was finding an image -- who wants to see an enema bag or butt plug? So, mouse went with daisies -- such pretty, happy flowers.

To answer, Omega requires enemas now about once a week -- sometimes twice. Sometimes he'll watch as mouse does it, other times he won't.  Rarely does he do it to mouse himself.  He will if it is part of a scene or the evening's play.  Over the summer we went from daily enemas, to a couple times a week to eventually weekly.  Most times he'd send mouse off to do it alone, other times he'd watch. The plugs however were worn often during the summer, usually Sir required it when we were most busy, as it has a calming effect on mouse.  As summer wore on, he began to scale back the times she wore one.  Since she's not allowed to touch any toys while he's away, when he returned to work mouse had to wait the week until he returned -- unless he'd given his blessing in advance.  Sir made it a quick rule that mouse couldn't ask him about it -- if he mentioned it, then fine but she wasn't allowed to ask him about it.  

Usually he'd tell her to wear it on the day he departed, then after a few hours he instructed mouse to remove, wash and stow it away until the day he returned.  To be honest, at first mouse was a little put off by it.  As time passed tho, she became more comfortable with the idea -- because it's under his control and not hers.  

That leads to the natural discussion about control and who really has it.  If the slave always gets her way, then is the Master really in control or is that control just an illusion?  That's the rub with M/s, when the control isn't about what mouse wants or what even makes sense to her, but what Sir prefers.  That's really when she knows full well about the choice she's made to give up control to him, because she feels it completely and that in and of itself is a great comfort to her. 

And from this point it probably just gets more confusing.  So, let's just look at the daisy at the top of the page and smile.  Just a final note, yes mouse wrote this Tuesday evening and scheduled it for Wednesday morning...We'll see how this goes.  

Monday, September 8, 2014

Settling into a New Routine

Life is always about change. Sometimes it's huge, other times it's subtle. We had a pretty good routine but then it had to change. Now, it's different somewhat. In the morning mouse wakes Sir, a bit earlier as his work schedule has changed. He's returned to picking out some of mouse's clothing and still forbids her from touching the strings of the corset on the days she wears one. The days she doesn't Sir expects mouse to do some exercise, but each day mouse does some form of exercise.

The day is often like a blur, in fact right now there's a sink full of dirty dishes that mouse doesn't want to leave for the housekeeper who will be here soon. More pressing is the plug mouse really needs to insert that's laying on the counter in our bathroom.

All better now, the dishes are stashed away in the dishwasher and the plug is stashed away inside mouse. It's comforting when its inserted and the warm feelings of submission penetrate her. Penetrate seems like an odd word -- but appropriate. Sir still arranges most of mouse's day, but sends that information directly to her phone via an app. He can also look over the shopping list, removing items or adding them. When a task is completed he can see the time it was completed. He likes it, but mouse somewhat misses the printed sheets of paper...sure this is more "green" certainly is easier on him. But she recalls fondly the days when the notes were actually handwritten by him. ...Something is lost when something's gained...and each of those silly things were saved.

The mornings are a bit busy now, so the one issue is finding time to blog.


Friday, September 5, 2014

How Does it Feel?

As mouse was working on a mountain of laundry days after our return, Sir came up behind her, slipping his arms around he asked, with a subtle whisper how it felt. For a brief second, as she folded some clothes, she nearly replied, "what?" No, she knew what he meant. He was asking how his control felt. With his body pressing against her, she just sort of melted into him. It would take all day to finish a few loads. The question was something that mouse considered before he asked it. Been thinking about it a lot, especially since she reread several posts since we returned.

The words, fine, right, the way it should be, all flitted in and out of her mind, but really feels like coming out of a dark cave. At the time, mouse didn't see the cave or know she was in one. Retrospect is always easier. Coming into the light made her realize how silly she's been feeling. Much later in bed, snuggled against his body, feeling him mouse talked more accurately about what began it all, where those feelings came from. How they just snowballed into something much more than they should have been.

In the morning, making his coffee, pouring it into a cup, cooking breakfast it occurred to mouse how mindful she was being. While away, mouse spent hours being still and seemingly introverted or turned inside herself. But really it was mindfulness came far easier without all the distractions. Or maybe it was the enemas and maintenance? Really, mouse can't be sure.

One thing about daily enemas, it doesn't take mouse long to become dependent on them so Sir pulled back on those right away, now they're just done once a week. But maintenance, now he makes mouse ask him for it. At first that unsettled mouse but she grew accustomed to that quickly. Another unspoken rule or expectation mouse is to follow.

The other thing Sir did was print out all the expectations and he made mouse rewrite them many times over the course of our time away. Reinforcing the control, which actually was more helpful than mouse anticipated.

So, how did it feel? Peaceful and pretty darn good!