Living the dream?

Good morning,

How glamorous is life sometimes as mouse made her way to the basement in search of a toilet plunger.  The toilet, it seems, three flights up was stopped up.  Lovely.  Then after returning it to its spot in the basement (don't ask why it's kept all the way down there),  mouse returned to tasks of cleaning, laundry, and a whole lotta cooking.

Lots of cooking.

Sometimes it's just easier to cook in advance, pull the ready meals out of the fridge add a few more ingredients and dinner is ready.  Omega, naturally, loves the idea because it seems so organized and an efficient use of Omega's time.  Well, mouse's time is Omega's time.

After dinner Omega did his usual, helping clear the table, loading the dishwasher and pressing too closely to mouse, which made her tremble.  How does he do that?  How does just the act of standing close to mouse send her over the edge?  Does he know?  Of course he does.  Silly mouse.

After the evening ritual, he bound the rings, which is fast becoming his favorite thing to do.  He took her in the places he wanted.  The slut is his.  He knows it as well as he knows his name.   He can do anything to her and she will agree.  He knows it and must feel that sense of power.

At the same time, mouse becomes confused because she really doesn't know where his power begins and her submission ends.  It's really like a ring.  Electric current running through it, pulsating to the rhythm we create.  Or is just what he creates?  The days and weeks blend together in a cacophony of sex and service with other things dabbled in between.

Last week, while out running errands, mouse saw a bouquet of flowers.  Impulsively she picked them up and put them into the cart.  As mouse hurried home she put them into a vase and smiled to herself.  The flowers pleased her.  Then it struck her...would Omega be angry that she bought something simply because it pleased her?  That she was intoxicated momentarily by their scent?  Would she be punished for the transgression?  Had mouse overstepped?  Is she allowed a pleasure outside of what Omega offers her?  Being a man he really doesn't care about flowers, unless they're required for some reason, like a birthday, Valentines...he'll do the manly duty of ponying up the money and buy them.  He doesn't do it because he wants to though, he'll do it because it's what he's supposed to do.  It's what men do.

During the evening meal, Omega said nothing about the flowers and mouse would have sworn he hadn't noticed them.  While cleaning up the kitchen he remained silent about them, chatting about other things.  All that left mouse to think that she was in the clear.  Then he asked, where did they come from and mouse recounted the story.  Were flowers on the list?  Of course not.  He wanted to know why she bought them.  Honestly, mouse just looked at him kinda perplexed and tried to come up with what she believed were the right words to maybe avoid punishment.  "They're pretty."

He said nothing, just nodded his head in that way he does, he kissed mouse's forehead and went to work in his study.  Later mouse brought some warm water with lemon (he doesn't like to drink coffee or tea in the evening hours) and he commented again on the flowers.  He said they were nice addition.  "A pleasant spot of Springtime."

At that moment the mouse couldn't stand it any longer, kneeling by his chair and blurting out that she bought them because they were pretty and she wanted them.  He leaned back in his chair and gazed at mouse with no anger in his eyes.  He smiled at her and said that it pleased him for her to do something that would make just make her happy.

Later he asked if she was worried to tell him that.  He wondered if he was pushing mouse too far in all this.  Had he taken too much?  No, she hadn't thought so.  Sure there was a moment of doubt but was there fear?  Pausing for a moment she knew telling him no would be a lie.  Of course there was fear.  Not in bad way; but not in a good way either, because she'd rather do anything than cause Omega any kind of disappointment.

There's no way to wrap this up in a nice way that explains and lays to rest all the fears.  There's no primer to this kind of slavery.