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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!

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Retooling mouse

Our time away began with a quick start, Sir returned to daily maintenance and also brought back the idea of daily enemas. Punishments were also given more or less at the time of occurrence unless he felt it was best to wait. Other things very subltle were included, like serving him coffee in a cup with saucer, preparing it the way he liked. Iced tea served in a tall glass with a bit of lemon. Meals prepared and mostly served family style, which encouraged lingering. He banished shoes, making mouse leave them outside the back door.

He found alternative uses for fishing line, hooks and clothesline pegs that tormented mouse endlessly. But the real main focus was on service. There were frequent picnics, long walks, and plenty of displays of public submission. Nothing in your face but appeared natural. Like having mouse kneel on the blanket as we picnicked. Nobody took any notice -- like at all because you know mouse was looking for any sign of disapproval. Eventually, somewhere after the first few weeks mouse stopped looking to others and only to Sir.

That was when the shift in mouse became really obvious (if only to her), when she really began to embrace her emotions, a sense of peace, pleasure in service or maybe feeling useful, came over her. Domestic duties like cooking, cleaning became a pleasure. The big shift occurred after a month passed, that's when mindfulness really kicked in with so much improved focus from mouse it was cathartic.

Shaking away the cares or worries about day to day life and feeling comfortable again in the bubble of submission. Rediscovering that the world will indeed continue spinning, regardless if mouse pays attention to it or not. Understanding that it doesn't make her stupid or "less than" not to be so well-informed about the current events. It's trusting Sir that if there is something she needs to know about -- he will tell her about it -- otherwise she adapted to quell the nosiness to know everything.

By far the most difficult time during the summer was when Sir departed, leaving mouse somewhat adrift. His only command was for mouse to shut off her cellphone and not turn it on. Instead she was to trust that on Friday evening he would return. If something happened, he would send word.

He scheduled himself unavailable on Mondays so we effectively only had three days apart. Friday evening he returned just as he promised and we worked out the schedule for mouse to pick him up. The weekends belonged to us -- where again mouse was completely free to dote on him. Keeping herself mentally occupied during those days was never difficult but being out of touch was another issue. So many nights mouse was completely tempted to drive into town to call him. That never changed.

When we returned home, instead or falling back into old habits we kept it up. Sir had the housekeeper do a few pet projects of his too while we were all away. All the coffee mugs were gone from the house and cups and saucers now replaced them. The pantry was set up differently and junk foods banished. Including the Milano cookies mouse had hidden that Sir later confessed he ate. He wants mouse to focus more on her cooking skills. He doesn't object to an occasional treat, but would prefer that mouse learn to make something like it. A compelling idea.

Returning to the world seemed daunting at first, again the whole what would the neighbors think resurfaced for a brief moment and put to rest once and for all when we went out to dinner one evening. We enjoyed a very intimate evening over candlelight and not a single person took any notice to us at all.

This scenario was replayed and reinforced repeatedly regardless of where we went, what we did or who was around us. Guess the lesson for mouse was to follow her leader! One lovely evening Sir was reading to mouse a bit of poetry as she was returning from the deep space feelings after blissful play....The words expressed mouse's deepest desire and wish...
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;
---- Alexander Pope, "Eloisa to Abelard"

Sunday, June 8, 2014

See You in September

In a few days this blog will go a bit quiet. We will try to update as time allows. The week or so that our blog was closed was really hard on mouse and made Sir all the more determined to fix the issue. In other words it wasn't exactly a welcome break. The coming break leaves mouse a bit mixed. It can't be helped.

September seems a long way off, a long time, forever! No, not that long.

There's a distinct combination of nerves and excitement now coming from mouse. How can Sir possibly erase the building fears? Well the answer is something mouse already knows, positive reinforcement. Being "away" will certainly help with that. Sir said there's nothing to fear and assured mouse it will all be fine. Of course, the rational side of mouse already knows this and can't help but to feel excitement to just be getting away.

On a final note we are completely overwhelmed by the amount of support you have shown mouse during these last few months and especially since our return. Thank you all!  

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Confession and Absolutions

St. Peter and Paul Catholic Church;
 San Francisco
As we geared up into overdrive for summer, Sir was/is incredibly busy, trying to wrap up work details and had the added issue of dealing with the blog. Not wanting to bother him mouse became completely uncertain about something. He'd completely forgotten to punish mouse for the weekly demerits. Part of her wanted, that Thursday evening, to simply assume all was well. That there hadn't been enough demerits to warrant action on his part. Still, he would tell usually inform mouse of that -- adding of course, a good deal of praise also.

There is something else, mouse has grown enjoy the feelings of clean slate on Friday and it's a lovely way to begin the weekend. As mouse went through the verbal corrections she'd received that week also, it became a bit obvious he had just forgotten. Waiting another week would just add to it all. So, just before midnight mouse went to his study and knocked softly on the closed door.

Sir was indeed very busy and impatient when mouse entered and with lots of hand-wringing tried to explain. At first he thought she wanted to go to bed and told her to go...then as she began to talk, he again grew impatient and said, "out with it."

Without much hesitation mouse blurted that she needed to be punished for the weeks infractions and demerits. Sir asked her to tell him all things she did wrong and listened as mouse prattled through the list and then when he said nothing mouse began to list things Sir couldn't have known.

It was like confessing sins -- if you're Catholic you'll understand. For some reason mouse began to list times that she didn't behave charitably or lacked grace. Like when the driver cut in front of her and then continued to drive painfully slow. Oh the words that flew out of mouse's mouth! Profanity -- and when it happened again somewhat at the market, again mouse let go with a string of profane words that would have made a sailor blush.

Sir said nothing as mouse rattled off a lengthy list of episodes of times where the mindfulness and peace she should be feeling was replaced with snark and downright aggression. Then when she finally finished she lowered her head, feeling nothing but shame. This was exactly like confession, save for the fact mouse wasn't on her knees confessing to some anonymous priest -- she was confessing to Sir.

Sir didn't say much, he mentioned that obviously mouse was keenly aware when she failed to meet an expectation. Then he considered for a moment the punishment and carried it out. The tears flowed even before the first blow. After he got a cool towel and wiped away the tears.

The next evening in bed, he asked questions about how often does mouse become angry (enraged) while driving. Lately, it has been happening more and more frequently and quickly it turned into a rant. He quelled and shushed her. He mentioned that it's really about feeling out of control.

"No, it's really about dealing with stupid people who seem to think they're the only ones on the road."

Sir chuckled and said that's fine, but it shouldn't overtake the moment. He mentioned as mouse is busy ranting about one thing, she's not really paying attention to the road. That could be a problem. The next morning he changed the music to something more soft -- melodic jazz. All that day as mouse moved through the chores and in the days that followed, the soothing music provided a balm of sorts. Maybe the music was more important than even mouse realized? No, that's impossible right?