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Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Tangled Up

"Sssh baby." Daddy softly held mouse close to him. We spent a few hours with mouse held tight with rope, as she floated far from him and remained fairly unaware of all he'd done. His own unique brand of sexual torture. He left mouse completely debased -- where at one point she freely humped his leg until she orgasmed as he watched. He loves the slut and she excites him. He loves to torment her.

After, he pulled mouse close and waited for her come back to earth. Holding her planting soft kisses on her -- tellling her it was okay to cry. Soon, as seems her normal routine she dropped to her knees and began sucking him. Now, mouse cannot be sure why she feels this overwhelming urge to do this after intense play. Daddy knows and feels its innate urge and one he indulges carefully.

Carefully, because he knows mouse isn't mouse yet. Daddy pulls her into his lap again. He listens to the secrets she spills. Eventually he encourages her to sleep and she does, sleeping as much as 10 hours. When she wakes she feels much more like mouse again -- except not quite all there. Simple tasks vex her, Daddy watches her carefully. Sometimes she cries. He holds her reminding her it's ok. The shear emotions begin to slowly ebb away and she feels beautiful and loved.

"Sssh baby." Daddy whispers....

Monday, May 25, 2015

Dare to Leap

Six years ago, mouse took a leap and landed in Daddy's arms. Each day has been amazing since. Wouldn't trade the bad times, since they seem to add flavor to the good times.

Thank you Daddy!

Friday, May 22, 2015

You Save her Little Soul

Yes, mouse was punished this week but as punishment it was decided that mouse should sit quietly and ponder her errors. Daddy worked and mouse sat considering what she had done wrong. Of course she knew where she veered off course.

We'd been busy a lot this week, as a result many of mouse's household tasks were neglected. Arrogantly she thought she could deal with them the next day, but when the next day proved equally difficult they again were pushed back. What mouse should have done was asked for help, guidance or whatever. Instead mouse decided not to.

Tearfully, mouse begged forgiveness. Daddy told her to wash her face and go to bed. This morning, he told her to put off writing until all the missed chores were completed. Now, this meant doing the same task numerous times, like since she missed two days of vacuuming she had to vacuum the house twice. It took a long time to complete it all.

In the end, it felt good. Not only was everything completed now, but it's all rather shiny. Lesson learned, trust Daddy if things get overwhelming and try harder to not fall behind.

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Wrapped Aound

Monday night we had a " thing" to attend, not sure who in their right mind schedules a "thing" on a Monday. It was a typical coffee and donut/cookie crowd brought together to discuss an upcoming bigger thing. Daddy told mouse he wanted just a cup of coffee and for mouse to grab one of the bottles or water for herself. Coffee in the evening doesn't or rarely has any effect on Daddy. With mouse more often it does.

Eventually the meeting part was breaking up and people were mingling and gossiping, as is common place it seems. Over by the door, holding his coat Daddy was speaking to an older lady that we're sort of mildly aquatinted with. Really mouse thought nothing more about it.

In the car making the short drive back home, mouse asked what they were talking about. He replied so calmly it seemed like a discussion about the weather that she asked him if mouse were 'taken in hand".

"Oh my god. What did you say?" horrified..

"I told her yes."

This led to a long discussion, where he reminded mouse several times that he didn't reveal anything important. He didn't say he tortures mouse for his pleasure or that mouse is his slave. Then with the mentioning of that he dropped the discussion all together.

After the maintenance spanking, mouse tried to reopen the discussion by asking what the older woman thought when he said, "yes." Daddy sighed wearily, and replied, "she only remarked that more women today should be." and then he pulled mouse to him, signalling the topic was now closed.

Tuesday after the house was quiet, mouse pondered someone, essentially a stranger having the slightest notion of this thing we do. Why does this disturb mouse? That was the perplexing question that seems to always cause her to stumble over her own feet. While doing some household chores mouse was reminded of a kid's magazine that had puzzles and stories about values. It was religious in nature, but mouse usually just looked at the puzzles -- hidden objects that kind of thing.

One such story was accompanied with an image of a family praying together in a restaurant. The story was entitled 'Not Ahamed,' and mouse can recall at a tender age thinking who cares?! What people do is their own business. This line of thought has always served mouse well. Gays demanding equal protections under the law by allowing to marry...honestly mouse thinks of course! We should be free to do as we wish, as long as no one else is harmed in the process.

Now, mouse could get into the hypocrisy of religious peoples, who would demand or fight for their right to pray in a public place, yet try to subvert others rights. But the more mouse thought about it, the more she rolled over the thought in her mind, like a dryer tumbling clothes, the more she felt, screw it. Suddenly she wished to do over the times that caught her off guard. The time she was confronted in the bathroom, or the woman at the summer house.

At that moment mouse resolved to not hide or shirk from who she is. If someone were to approach her with a seemingly innocent question or voice a concern it would be met, eye to eye, with much more honesty. No, she's not about to announce her slavery to Daddy -- since the very word holds too much weight. But she won't hide herself either, instead holding her head high, and trying to firmly assure that she's well cared for. If the woman had approached mouse and asked if she were "taken in hand," mouse might now reply, "why yes." and leave it at that.

 

Monday, May 18, 2015

Living is Easy with Eyes Closed

Our weekend was really busy, lots of shopping for summer and other things we needed. Of course mouse skipped breakfast, because she was too busy so around 11am broke down in a tizzy over something stupid. Daddy, who was with mouse wasn't amused but guessed food was the issue and made her sit down and eat a hotdog and watched as mouse ate it.
 
He said it made him hard. As we sat together with mouse's back against him, she could feel his arousal. It made her giggle as he kept trying to watch her eat the hotdog. It's doubtful, anyone around us noticed or thought anything. If they saw us at home, they'd see something very different. They might see Daddy come through the door at the end of the day and sit in his chair. They would see mouse kneel and remove his shoes -- which he allows mouse to do. In cooler weather he wears slippers, which mouse puts on for him. They would witness mouse fetching him a cool drink, and they'd see mouse serve him dinner too.
 
Some people might feel inclined to comment disparagely about these displays of submission, but this is our home. If they asked mouse would explain it. Daddy works very hard and we love him. You do things for people you love. He does plenty for us.
 
So mouse closes her eyes or maybe she just looks at Daddy. Focused on him the rest of the world can really mind their own business. Still it's not like mouse sees their expressions anyway.
Sunday, Daddy took us out to breakfast. The place offers basket of scones for the table. Rather instinctively mouse takes one, and looks to Daddy for approval which he nods, ever so slightly, then breaks it into two, adds a bit it jam, and places on Daddy's plate, before serving others at the table. Also, mouse fills the water glasses from the carafe to Daddy first and then the others The coffee arrives in a large white pot to keep it warm. Again without much thought, in the same way silently askis if he wants coffee, then fills Daddy's cup. Then looks to him and holds up the cream, which again he nods approval, before adding a drop or two to the coffee and gently stirs it for him. Cream in his coffee is a weekend only indulgence he has -- aside from what he does to mouse. The discussion turned to the menu offerings but Daddy didn't ask mouse anything.
 
He ordered for himself, then for mouse and our youngest. Meanwhile mouse kept busy making sure Daddy's cup was filled and listening to the kids silliness. The food arrived, this is only time mouse helps our youngest first cutting the French Toast and adding a few drops of syrup. Daddy doesn't need help with his food, but mouse waits to begin eating the food he ordered for her. It's a silent thing she has returned to doing, waiting for Daddy to indicate she should start. Really can't explain how it started, but it's something that mouse forgot about doing.
 
Daddy mentioned it one night.
 
Lately, honestly, mouse has been submitting more and more to Daddy -- just when she thinks she can't submit further, there's some deep reaching and she learns that she can give more. Yet, she hadn't blogged about this. This leaves her asking why not?
 
This thing that we do, is built on a solid foundation of respect, love and honesty. Daddy's character is well established to mouse, we've been together a long time and have known each other for years before that. He's the man she's always wanted and felt was too elusive. This is the reason she calls him Omega. He's the last man she'll be owned by. It's not hyperbole, it's a simple truth.
 
Still it's worrisome to mouse that someone reading here, who might be new to the lifestyle, would read this seemingly intense submission and think its what they want or how it should be. Outwardly what we share in this blog, is limited. Snippets of how we live, what we do and how we do it. Yet, mouse doesn't share or sometimes can't begin to scratch the surface of how deep her slavery is to Omega.

Friday, May 15, 2015

Towering Over Your Head

The week has been a disaster, with the exception of Tuesday's playtime in Daddy's study, the rest of the week has been too busy to fit much else in. Yesterday, we had a dinner party to attend, some colleagues of Daddy's, and we're getting painfully close to the time where we're expected to host something. The idea, at least right now, fills mouse with some dread. All the cleaning and cooking...

 

Before we left for the party however, Daddy did make mouse bend over, and he inserted the plug into her rear. Then told her to finish dressing, because she always takes longer than he does. The party wasn't terrible, lots of laughter, good food and wine. Did mouse mention wine?

 

When we got home the house was quiet, Daddy paid the sitter. Then after they left, he told mouse to undress. It was Thursday after all, time to discuss demerits. Really, mouse has gotten rather used to not being punished and has received plenty of praise. There were a couple smallish issues he explained as he removed his belt. He felt mouse was slipping back into the presuming what he thinks thing and felt it was better to nip it in the bud. Naturally, he had examples of small infractions, where mouse decided something for him. Being right isn't the point, he explained, it's about presumptions.

 

He had mouse bend over the desk and kiss his belt, then he delivered many sharp blows to her backside. Tears of course spilled, which Daddy after blotted with a handkerchief.

 

"Be my good girl, gather your things and wait for me upstairs."

 

Honestly mouse ran up the stairs. Yes, she was practically nude, but it was late enough that it wasn't particularly an issue, except the windows. In the bedroom mouse hung up the dress, put away her shoes and then waited for him to undo the corset and remove the plug. At first she felt sarcastic, 'didn't want to presume he'd want it removed.' Then remorse filled her and felt bad, or guilty for having that thought.

 

The longer she waited the worse she felt. When he came upstairs, after doing the nightly walk through and making sure all is as it should be, he found mouse whimpering. He untied the corset and removed the plug, and watched as mouse hung up the corset and cleaned the plug. He said it could be left out, mouse would be wearing it in the morning. Then he called her to the chaise and had her bend over his knee, this time for maintenance.

 

Wasn't the punishment enough? He rubbed her rear, kneading it with his fingers, and delivered a few well appointed slaps. In no time mouse was again tearful and blurting out her thought from earlier, and begging forgiveness. He stopped. He told her she was a good girl for telling him. He said he knew it is difficult at times. Then he pulled her into his arms and just held her. That was probably the best part.

 

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

A New Sensation

This is how he had her, painfully clamped with brand new clover clamps, boobs squished under his weight, each movement stirring a new sensation of pain. Down below unseen her clit captured in a suction tube he earlier applied. The movement made her cry, as though her boobs weren't bad enough.

How it began was more simple, first he had mouse undress in his study, as she did, he repositioned things around his desk. Then he told her to hop up and spread herself.

"Wider slut, show me that cunt!"

He toyed and played with her clit gently at first, until it was exposed, vulnerable and mouse was moaning. He pulled out the suction and drew it inside the insidious tubing and left it there, hanging. He had mouse slowly and carefully move he cautioned if it becomes dislodged we begin again.

Then he added the new clover clamps and told her to bend over.

Stuck in this position he entered mouse harshly from behind and gave her a good, long pounding fuck. The suction fell away, and mouse can't describe the good way it felt after. The whole area felt supercharged. It made her forget completely how bad her boobs felt. The poor things scraping across the desk, each jarring moment with short chain adding drag. Honestly mouse couldn't focus on one sensation. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out, the amazing way her clit felt or the stinging breast pain.

"Do not cum." his voice rang through her head. Damn him.

When he finished he placed a towel on the floor, and told mouse to turn over, which brought a new sensation as the clover clamp's chain was stretched so far that new discomfort ensued. Why can't she have the kind of tits that stay more upright? He lifted her legs up onto the desk. It made mouse feel opened and exposed. Under one of her legs a small fan was pushed into place, the air stirring around her sex.

He said he had the perfect thing to punish mouse for losing the suction (as if she had any control over that) and showed her the bamboo back scratcher he got in his tropical itch drink a long while ago, oh how much fun he had torturing his mouse after the kids had gone to sleep. It was perfect to spank her pussy with.

Before the words, "oh shit." could leave her lips, he was fingering her clit, drawing it out, the sensations drew out moans from mouse.

Then...

Thwack!

More gentle touching followed by more blows against her unsuspecting sex. Each blow bringing out a whimper of pleasure and pain. Her breasts jostled and pulled against the clamps even more. The sting soothed by air. Shivers from the fan, the toying and more thwacks.

Somehow despite the pain, the orgasm built and when he allowed it, the release was huge. The smell of sex filled the room. The clamps were off, the pain as blood rushed back intense almost as her orgasm. Numb tingles filled her body.

He had her lick the scratcher, his cock and the towel on the floor.

After mouse felt sleepy, happy and warm.

Thank you Daddy.