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.