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Monday, June 11, 2018

The Echo of a Distant Tide

And no one showed us to the land
And no one knows the wheres or whys
But something stirs and something tries
And starts to climb towards the light

A few days ago, mouse was searching through the closet, looking for a missing napkin. Now, let's be honest, mouse is a bit on the short side, compared to Master, and she was jumping up to reach to the top shelf, where the napkin was. It was half off the shelf and mouse jumped grabbing it and whatever was under it, which fell like confetti. It's never simple mouse muttered to herself and began picking up all the stuff that had fallen, as well as the napkin which she threw on her shoulder like a towel.

Some loose photographs and a card she'd given Omega years ago. Not really paying much attention, mouse was turning the photos around, it's something that people do, right? There, in the small bundle was a picture of very young mouse and her former Owner. It must be one of two or three photos that exist. At first mouse was studying it trying to figure where it was taken but the setting didn't look too familiar. It was a living room photo, then mouse noticed a very small kitten in the picture. It was taken at his house, probably just after we found the kitten, abandoned. He had taken it in, partly because of mouse.

On every level mouse knew we'd never be together long. His former life was complicated. You might say we had a shelf life, sure it lasted longer than mouse thought it would. It was still never going to be forever. This was the same person who got mouse into the lifestyle. This was before the internet, email was still more than a few years away and when we'd get it, it was  closed system. You could only email co-workers.

Much later, mouse showed the photograph to Master, he looked at it for a moment, and said, "You look like your in love." Now, mouse didn't see that. Sure she looked happy, but Master pointed out that he was looking at the camera but mouse was looking at him. Starry eyed mouse.

Suddenly mouse recalled the whole thing and looked at the picture again wondering where it came from, because she hadn't recalled seeing it before. Master said the Owner had it amoung his things, and then reminded mouse that he had taken the photograph. There wasn't much else to say so mouse excused herself and returned to her evening tasks. Still she kept chewing mentally on the young girl feeling the first blush of slavery and so very enamored by her Master. What happened to her?

Sure, as mouse wrote earlier she always understood that dynamic had a shelf life, especially early on. Owner had started mouse on many things aside from slavery, and remained indebted to him for her career. When mouse came to him she had a meager job, a very small savings account and nothing else. Essentially she entered his life nude and willing to be his slave with nothing else to her name except her car and very few other possessions. It was because we had a shelf-life that he did that. It was something to fall back on when slavery ends. He couldn't leave her money or a house, but he left her with something more although she didn't see that until years later. In a very short time, the girl in the photo would be placed on a path that at times seemed difficult or even insurmountable and yet managed it.

How many start down this path of slavery knowing that it will end and what do they take with them? Master said once he would often find suitable Dominant types for the girls he kept when it was time to move on. Sometimes the girls would reach out (with his blessing) to another Master to continue their journey. The only other thing Master offered was that many were married today or in permanent relationships. While mouse has never really considered herself lucky, it did leave her wondering if those former slaves were as fortunate as she has been. That was a completely new feeling. 

Monday, June 4, 2018

Well All Right

Well all right so I've been foolish
Well all right let the people know
About the dreams and wishes you wish
When at night when the lights are low

There are things Master enjoys that mouse doesn't. Don't want to yuck anyone's yum, but mouse hates being urinated on. Sure, some might say it's a special gift from their Master and they're more than excited to anytime anywhere, yet mouse finds the idea nothing less than revolting. Now, let's also be clear if Master wants mouse to drink his piss, she's going to do it. It's simply not a preference she has. He knows it and at times it just tickles him to do anyway. Another thing sometimes Master will do is deprive mouse of her senses. Using a hood rather like the one pictured above mouse is essentially deaf, dumb, and without sight. The only thing she can smell is plastic and leather, so even the sense of smell is diminished. 

The other day, since Master's been around a little more, while the house empty of humans, he felt it was good time to play a little. He placed the mask on the bed. Mentally mouse thought, "oh hell no!" the slap for hesitating brought her back. While she was fixating on the mask, he had told her to undress. The riding crop in his hand swished through the air and connected with mouse's thigh. Then she began moving to undress, while he continued to whip her forcing her into a dance for His pleasure. He put a gag into her mouth, which made her whimper a little bit as he fitted the tight mask over her face, making sure the ears were covered properly. Then he tested it, by hitting her breasts and rear with the crop. Luke Skywalker she is not, with the blast shield down she couldn't see a damn thing. 

Now, several things run through her mind when he's done this in the past. What if something happens? You cannot communicate in any meaningful way. So the first thing mouse tries to slow her breathing, and keep calm, of course him hitting various body parts doesn't really help much with that. Of course, she knows on some level there are ways to remove it. There's a buckle in the back that she could get off, and surprisingly she can breathe fine through her nose. The wrists are bound in front of her, but she can tell he's using rope and knows there's a part she could pull to easily remove it. He leads her to bed. Quiet, mouse tries to hear but the only sound is blood rushing through the veins. 

Bound to the bed, it feels soft under her, but her legs are splayed painfully wide, and her arms are extended up over her head. Panic begins to fill her, tugging at the ropes and feels completely at his mercy. There's the sensation of the nipple rings being toyed with and the bite of a clamp. In the gag mouse screams. Then she feels something digging into her like she's being filleted open. More panic then suddenly there's this strange calm. In her head, she's resolved that there's nothing she can do. The only thing she can smell is leather and plastic. The only taste is plastic and her own drool that she can't control. The searing pain to her clit brings her back to reality, but not for very long. Soon the blows to her cunt are just accepted and her arms go somewhat slack. The screaming into the gag stops, turning to whimpers that she can really only hear inside her head. 

Then she feels her arms being released. His cock inside her, his weight on her causing different panic for some reason, feeling more differently restricted. He rarely anymore uses mouse that way, usually it's been from behind. So the one time he actually does, she's hooded. He's a devil that way.  

Then she feels him lifting her head, and removing the terrible hood. The daylight feels bright as he removes the gag but she still can't make sounds. Mentally the experience is draining for her. Shivering from cold she hadn't felt before or noticed, Master wrapped us both up in the blanket, his body touching her own felt soothing. Later, we did get up but only because we had to and mouse let out a gasp when she saw her body in the mirror. Bruises, whip marks and welts covered much of it. To her it looked beautiful. It's been years since she was marked this way.   

The only thing mouse could think to say was, "oh thank you Master."

Hours later, the pain settled and only hurt when she moved or sat, or walked, or moved without thinking, which way would hurt less? It was a good hurt though, a very good hurt. Much later Master remarked that he would always much rather beat mouse for his pleasure than for punishment. For once, mouse didn't dwell on her inadequacies in that regard, but instead took the words as he said them without adding her own slanted interpretation of what he might have meant. Slowly, mouse is learning. When Master inserted the plug into her bottom all the thoughts she might have had, flew away like a bird taking flight. The buoyancy created an inertia within and around her that lifted her. More tearfully this time, she thanked him and truly meant every word.  

Monday, May 28, 2018

Wicked Wind Whispers and Moans

The full moon is calling, the fever is high
And the wicked wind whispers and moans
You've got your demons, you got desires
Well, I've got a few of my own

Our power went out one evening during a springtime storm. Naturally any excuse mouse can find to light candles. Master was in a good mood as the sun set and moon rose high peeking through the clouds. His workload has diminished and said no more traveling for a while. He spoke about our summer travel plans and an extended return to the lake. This came as news to mouse, but welcomed news just the same.

A few days ago, Master came home from work earlier than anticipated and found his slave in the kitchen, completely unaware that he even came through the door. At that moment she was lost in an inadequate recipe. It was one of those things where the list of ingredients doesn't actually match the cooking instructions and it left mouse wondering when to add those missing ingredients. When she felt his arms around her, gathering her into an embrace mouse recoiled a little. Then seeing his hands settled and cuffed shirt. leaning back against him. Closing her eyes, and felt whatever stress she was feeling at that moment just melt away. He brushed her hair out of the way and pressed his lips into her neck as his hand went up, pushing apart her blouse under the bib of her apron, and cupped her breast.

He didn't ask where mouse was in the cooking process or if she could pause, but instead unbuttoned his trousers and lifted her skirt, removed the plug that was inserted, allowing it to hit the floor, and filled her ass with him. Somehow mouse turned off the burners as she felt herself being pushed slightly forward and pummeled from behind. The heat from the pan, somehow adding to her excitement, as one of her breasts freed from what ever little protection a thin cloth provided swung freely, the ring nearly making contact with the pan. He took her silently, almost methodically, his cock plunging her depths.

When he finished, he rubbed his cock against her bare, exposed ass, returned it to his trousers, then simply walked away as though nothing had happened. In the other room, Master was heard talking to our housekeeper who was gathering her things to leave for the day. Somehow mouse summoned her voice to speak as she said, "Thank you, goodbye, see you on Friday," from the kitchen, her voice a little too high and probably a little too quick. On the floor by her bare foot was the plug, her breast still hanging out, and she just closed her eyes again, mentally lost in the sensations of His touch.

Slowly, mouse began to fix her clothing, her clouded mind clearing slowly, as she lowered her skirt,  picked up the plug off the floor and rearranging her blouse. Then took the plug to the sink to give it a rinse. Uncertain what to do, lost in a fog, mouse paused for a moment or three. Then went into the bathroom and returned the plug with very little effort. Some of his seed had spilled and mouse felt this weird compulsion to taste it and licked her fingers almost ravenously.

Washing her hands felt almost wrong, but she did wash up anyway, the scent of him replaced with lavender soap in the guest bath and her body trembled slightly. Then she found him in the family room, settled into his chair and mouse removed His shoes, kissing his feet, feeling that strong desire grow inside her to crawl inside him. Trying to find words mouse thanked him and asked if he'd like something to drink. He asked for a glass of iced tea, remarking that it was still too early for a cocktail.

Suddenly mouse realized how early it was, her mind back down to earth. Checking the time, mouse said she'd fetch it right away and again thanked him. Then she went, unlocked the front door and filled a tall glass with iced tea for Master, and returned to the kitchen to try to figure out where she was in the cooking process that was interrupted. The dog barked a few times, alerting mouse to the arrival of the school bus and she hurried to slide the dinner into the oven. Smoothing her skirt, and checking the bodice of her blouse making sure all the parts were appropriately covered. Soon the door burst open and footfalls were heard and the door slamming shut. A voice saying hello to the dog. Then coming into the kitchen, excitedly saying "Daddy's home?" as our once baby girl opened the fridge and asked what's for dinner.

After a quick snack for the little one, mouse's phone alarm went off indicating it was time to go to dance class and run a final errands before dinner. Quickly grabbing her purse, while the child rushed to change into her dance outfit, mouse let Master know of the plans. We'd be gone for around an hour, dinner was fine to just be left in the oven, and mouse would run errands during the dance class. He surprised mouse by offering to drive us, it was a nice change. Master remained in the car while mouse walked our little one into dance, did the sign in thing and hugs and kisses and left. Usually mouse would just walk to the dry cleaners, but since Master was with her, she walked back to the car and got in. The sky had darkened considerably during short the drive over, suddenly there was a burst and rain poured down. Now mouse was grateful not to be caught in that. Master paralleled parked like a champ -- something mouse can never do and slipped into a slot right in front of the dry cleaners. Running between the drops mouse ran into the cleaners, picked up the suits and ran back to the car, hanging them on the handle in the backseat.

Then we drove the market, the rain having stopped for a moment, until it was time to get out, then hail began to fall. We waited a few moments inside his car, as Master's fingers wandered to her blouse, just with a touch a button came undone and her breast was slightly revealed. Then his hand moved down to her skirt and with a tug raised it up until he could see the top of her hose and garter. "Slut" he murmured under his breath.

This time he got out of the car with mouse and we walked into the market. Almost nervously mouse checked her midweek list, avoiding all the aisles she didn't need to go down but did pause at the bakery. While looking at the dessert case she noticed her reflection and the blouse brazenly open. Master's hand was on her and didn't seem to be the least bit concerned. Mentally, mouse pushed that thought out of her mind and considered making something for dessert because she rarely buys anything like that from the store but instead using what they make as an inspiration.

After asking permission to bake something for dessert, mouse doubled back to get some cake flour and then some fresh fruit. Master whispered in her ear, saying He wasn't going to have much fun if mouse spent all the time, cooking, shopping and baking. Almost nervously mouse lowered her eyes and chewed on her lip, causing him to lift her chin to look at him. He was kidding but probably only half so. He said dessert did sound fine, a midweek celebration. Down the wine aisle mouse noticed a bottle of champagne in the cart.

Double checking the list, mouse used her phone to pay with the app Master set up and then we left with the bags. We did still have time before dance class ended so Master put mouse's mouth to some good use, in a more secluded area of the parking lot. Then he drove back to get the little one. On the way home the clouds opened up again.

Fast forward just a few days to the time without any lights. Everyone gathered around the fire, a child played the piano with Master's help. It made mouse think about days gone by, before television, devices with dongles, and life moving at rapid pace. Did they feel the same way? Could they imagine a time where such things would be out of the ordinary?

Master went through the house after everyone was in bed with flashlights. In our bedroom mouse lit several candles that caused a warm glow. Another thing that's different today, the warm yellow glow of candlelight, in place of the stark whiteness of the halogen lights. It's odd when we first changed to those we remarked how bright they were but it seems we quickly got used to it.

Again, Master grabbed mouse from behind, pushed her roughly onto the bed, slapping her bottom through the skirt. He hiked it up, stuffing his hand under it roughly making her cry out. Pinching her clit and then just as roughly shedded his clothing and entered her. The plug in her bottom making that area very tight as she cried out in pain while he groaned in pleasure. He whispered into her ear that she was His cunt. He overpowered her body with such ease it amazed mouse. After he dripped wax on all her most tender of parts and watched as she writhed, cried and moaned despite the sting with pleasure. The belt once on his trousers was off and slamming against various body parts while mouse tried to vainly to shield herself and her face slapped in rebuke.

Much later he pulled her bruised, violated body close and blew out the remaining candles. The last thing mouse heard was Master's voice saying he's been feeling extra sadistic lately.

Monday, May 21, 2018

Never Ending or Beginning

Like a circle in a spiral 
Like a wheel within a wheel 
Never ending or beginning 
On an ever-spinning reel...

It is probably worth mentioning that mouse hasn't been reading any good books lately but most evenings when there is time and things are quiet mouse will read through the previous pages of this journal. Cherry picking often and while there are a few masturbatory worthy posts, there are even more that mouse finds cringe-worthy today. After closing her laptop once with a loud exasperated slam, mouse considered adding some new "labels" or "tags" to her posts to include, "Haughty" or "Arrogant" and just "Plain Wrong". 

Re-reading this journal at times is like mouse meeting an old friend who knows where all the bodies are buried and regales others with 'remember that time' stories -- which you just know never end well, and often leave you scratching your head thinking, really? Did that happen, or did I do that? For a moment you might even think they're mistaken and confused you with another person. Then sometimes a tidbit is added where you finally recall. 

Memory is complicated, we often choose to forget things that are embarrassing to us. Times we misspoke or became intoxicated and did something off the wall in hilarity. It is often the purpose of friends to remind us of wild child we used to be. It's not also without irony that our children and even spouses enjoy hearing those tales. "You did that?" you might say with some level of astonishment because its completely different to the man or woman you know today or that raised you. 

At some point during her re-reading expedition mouse closed the laptop in embarrassment and vowed to never delve into the past again. Sure, she could see by reading how far she's come; how much she's grown in her slavery to Master. That growth that she's so proud of didn't begin to snowball until around 2015! Master said he wants her to continue to explore the past, contemplate where she went wrong and what she might do differently now. He also reminded mouse that many people don't keep journals and probably most of the ones that do, don't really read them ever again.

It's like a time machine, filled with personal thoughts. Master then added that he still journals almost every day and showed her his current book. His neat handwriting that looks almost typed is annoyingly precise. Obviously the notion that women are supposed to have better penmanship is myth, while mouse's has improved with daily writing, it'll never be that precise. When mouse asked if he ever read them years later and he admitted that he had. He never thought of his previous thoughts to be appalling, but that rather an evolution that only does come with age.

He gave a hard pinch and twist to a nipple through her blouse when she gave him a sideways glance. Then he took back the journal. A mild but effective correction. Lately mouse feels woefully inadequate but is making great efforts to alter those thoughts into action that Master would be proud and happy with. The result has been a more mindful and obedient mouse. Exploring the past with a critical eye, maybe is helpful to her.

An odd parting thought, the image mouse chose, while beautiful perplexes her and in an odd way mirrors her own discomfort. The female, is laying on what seems to be a very comfortable bed. with a pillow under her head but her arms are awkwardly bound in a way that must be at least a little uncomfortable, yet seems happy to be used in this way. It's that paradox between comfort and discomfort that intrigues mouse at the moment in her own slavery to Master and her ever evolving purpose.

Sunday, May 13, 2018

It's as Big as the Promise

'Cause the truth you might be runnin' from is so small
But it's as big as the promise, the promise of a comin' day

Sometimes speaking (and writing) in the third person is a blessing for mouse, as she can disassociate herself. It's not "me" it's mouse. Yet, there isn't a "me" and only mouse or slave, since mouse is the name Master called her largely in place of slave. Where is this going? No idea, there have been some struggles lately as Master continues to travel. The past few years he didn't have to travel so much, now he's beginning to recall why he stopped.

While Master was away, one early evening he phoned and we spoke for a while. During that call mouse poorly expressed that she missed him. Instead of simply saying that she explained awkwardly, it felt like she was placed on a shelf and forgotten about. He replied in a rather sarcastic way that she didn't anticipate. His rebuke was laced with a bit of venom. it left mouse disquieted long after the call ended. As usual mouse had said too much and allowed her emotions to take her too far. His carefully worded, albeit sarcastic retort brought her crashing back down to reality and her past lapse in judgment. Probably the biggest error was that mouse left it there saying little during the remainder of the phone call, didn't apologize by text or on the next phone call. Instead she thought we'd discuss it when he got home. Somehow she'd make him understand.

A few days later Master sent a text to mouse telling her to go to bed and he'd be home at the very earliest in the wee morning hours. His flight was being delayed or he had missed his connecting flight -- but whatever the reason, it's something that he's gotten used to. Sure enough, at some point before dawn, mouse woke to the sound of the shower going. His last instruction was to just let him sleep. He didn't really need to express that, as mouse would have taken it as evident but still appreciated the direction. When she woke she simply went about the morning as though he wasn't yet home, with a few alterations.

As humans slowly appeared dressed and ready for another school day mouse kept the sounds under control. Mid morning mouse did her usual errands and returned to a still very quiet house. Afraid to wake Master, mouse just kept to the lower floors and worked through her daily cleaning. As morning shifted to midday however mouse became a little anxious about when he would rise.

Eventually she heard the sound of a door opening (one has a horrible squeak) and the sound of the toilet flushing. Almost frozen mouse waited, until the footfalls were heard as he came downstairs. He appeared in the kitchen. He asked what time it was, and mouse answered that it was close to 1. He looked outside for a moment in that way as though checking for daylight. Then mouse asked softly if he'd like coffee, she'd saved a cup before washing out the pot and it wouldn't take too long to reheat. or she could make a fresh pot for him. He was still tired and not sure what he wanted though, and eventually settled mentally at least for some eggs.

it took no time to whip up, and soon it was on a plate and before him with some hot sauce, which he politely refused. Then he asked mouse to sit. He wanted some company while he ate after days basically eating at a table for one, he welcomed some conversation that wasn't about work. Almost nervously mouse prattled through the few things she hadn't already shared with him and reminded him that a couple of his siblings were coming to dinner tonight (he had arranged it a week or more earlier, under the assumption that he would have a full night of sleep). He looked up from his eggs and muttered something that mouse didn't catch but also didn't ask him to repeat.

Pensively mouse waited, folded a napkin and then smoothed it out and folded it again. Waiting is often difficult, especially when there's a lot to do, or maybe there wasn't too much, but it all hung on Master and what he wanted. Part of her wanted to offer solutions, we could cancel and he could just rest or should mouse be cleaning more? There was still plenty to do before the children made everything three times as hard. Then of course there was the other matter that mouse didn't want to talk about or the fact that she should apologize for, but hadn't so far.

"Master may mouse speak?"

He looked up from his plate as though surprised, "I thought we were were. Yes, speak freely."

"Sorry Master." mouse said softly with lowered eyes.

"For what?"

Then slowly mouse explained how she was thinking about the phone conversation a few days ago and how she was again guilty of trying to control her slavery and also circling around all she had to do and was feeling very impatient with him  Both were wrong. He said he was pleased that mouse was seeing it. We spoke a little longer about it and then moved onto the other honestly more pressing issue of the dinner that evening and decided it was too late to cancel and sent mouse to finish her chores. He showered, but stayed out of mouse's way as she quickly cleaned the remainder of the house and was nearly finished before the children go home.

The dinner went well and mouse barely had a moment to eat, instead focusing on Master, our guests and family, making sure their plates were full, wine or water/beverage glasses refilled. After the guests left, the children had helped tidy then yawned in that obvious way, so Master released them from further chores. Once they were settled mouse felt exhausted but it was a good exhaustion.

Master looked far more exhausted, having spent the evening engaged in lively political discussions he was feeling even more exhausted from the broken sleep of extended traveling. He said he was going to his study to work a little. A very short while later while mouse was quietly reading, he emerged and stated he was going to bed -- he lacked any kind of real focus. He didn't make mouse join him, instead just said to come to bed when she was ready and there were still a few later evening things that needed to be completed. Like emptying the dishwasher, which was still going, and letting the dog out to do his thing.

Seated on the floor, mouse pondered Master's words about not being able to focus. This was something mouse understood. While focus isn't really her problem, distractions sometimes are, which causes her to be disobedient.

That word bothered mouse, disobedient. That's rarely something she does with intent. It's more about doing what he requires in an exact way. Like the time when mouse cleaned the closet. He had asked mouse to do a few things, cleaning the closet wasn't one of them, but somehow it morphed into that and all other things seemed to be forgotten about, including dinner. While mouse had not set out to become disobedient, in a way like, "screw him, i'll do what i want" it was a different kind of disobedience that occurred when she allowed her own compulsion to override his wishes.

We still have a housekeeper, it is worth mentioning, but while in the beginning the housekeeper was the end to the means, because mouse was an incompetent at keeping house, today the reason is completely different because the housekeeper is more like a part of our family than just a random person who cleans. If the housekeeper did quit, we wouldn't need to replace her, but as it is, we're happy and fortunate to have our housekeeper in our life.

While mouse would love to venture further down the housekeeper rabbit hole, mouse will resist the urge and maybe putting a pin in that thought for another time.

The point of this is mouse's disobedience that while is never completely intentional. Yet, as mouse had read through much of this journal with fresh eyes, she sees that time and again mouse neglected to follow the simplest directive to "obey". There's something about obeying or disobeying that is clouded. Most women just say very simply they "obey" their Owner or Master, but aren't there levels of obedience? If Master says, 'clean the bathroom,' do you spend the time doing it until everything sparkles? Or do you just make it presentable? Wiping the sink, tub or shower, cleaning the mirror, swishing some cleaner into the toilet, maybe taking a duster to the tile or floor? Sure, there are times when 'good enough' is well, good enough but what happens when just good enough becomes the standard?

it's not just about cleaning or cooking, but it also runs into all aspects of life, doesn't it? There are moments when mouse is actively worshipping Master's cock or body where she feels it. It's not rote and she's not mentally wandering through the laundry list of other things to do, but truly becomes lost in that worship of Him. He always knows when that happens. Sure he can, and sometimes does take control of the action, but does that happen only when mouse is inadequate? Yes and no if she's honest with herself. Looking at it this way, mouse can safely say when she's not thoroughly engaged in the process of worship and is going through the mental laundry list Master will always without fail take control of her action bringing her back to Him. A face slap, pulling of hair, or just shoving his cock deeply into her throat until she gags and drools around him are all ways of getting her attention. When she's engaged fully in worshipping his body, maybe once out of five times he might redirect her efforts.

It's not about just obeying but going beyond that obedience that mouse most wishes to go.  

Friday, May 4, 2018

In her Place

Recently after many, many months of no physical punishment mouse stepped boldly over a line. Master Omega came home from work one day, a little early and looking exhausted. He's been traveling a good deal for work and has been coming and mostly going. He was naturally looking forward to actually spending a little time home for once, before he'd have to repack his case again in another week or so for the next round. Master announced that he was going to make use of the hot tub and then went upstairs to change. There was a huge misunderstanding about His wishes that mouse can only say that she wasn't really thinking when it all happened but made a myriad of assumptions about what He wanted.

Nothing else was said until Thursday evening long after the kitchen was cleaned and family were either in bed or doing their own thing in their rooms. The dog had been walked and mouse found herself in the hallway by Master's study sitting rather nervously on the stool he placed outside the closed wooden door. Several nerve-wracking minutes later, he opened the door and told mouse to undress in front of him and he removed the corset. Usually he would leave that on her. Completely nude for the first time in many months for this reason left mouse feeling ashamed and vulnerable to him, especially when he told her to kneel in more or less the center of the room.

He asked if mouse understood why she was being punished and then he asked for her side of the event. Now this was something mouse had been running through over and over through her mind since it happened early that week. He walked around her as she stammered through the only explanation she had. Not only had mouse presumed to know His thoughts but she had "projected" her own desires onto the situation by assuming that he'd want to be alone to relax because that's what she'd want to do. Next time she would ask him privately and accept the answer.

Soon the cane was out and mouse was leaning over the cleared desk, fingers splayed and softly resting on the dark wood with her legs parted and her nipples just touching the desk. The first "thwack" of the cane took mouse's breath away and she struggled to say "one" the second made a loud whooshing sound with another harder "thwack" on her thighs as she tried to say "two". Shaking legs and unsteady hands were the only things holding her in place as her tears blotted the woodwork on the desk until she reached the number 20.

While her ass couldn't take anymore abuse other parts weren't so lucky. He commanded for her to kneel and hold her tits up to him where he again struck them several times. Maybe next time she would remember. After she thanked Him profusely for the correction and kissed his shoes. Soon she felt the cool vulnerability of His version of corner time. Hands behind her back, head down nude, standing in the corner while his fingers clicked on the computer. Once or twice he'd remind her to be quiet when her sniffles became too frequent or noisy. Eventually released from the wall he watched her dress (without the corset) and sent her upstairs to ready for bed and wait for him.

Undressing again, hanging up her dress, brushing her teeth, then taking her spot on the floor in front of the bed, kneeling and lowering her torso to the floor. Feeling the pile of the carpet brush against her nipples and welting breasts. It occurred to mouse that she hadn't thought to really look at her reflection but shook that feeling away reminding herself that this was punishment and not done for any of his own pleasure. He entered the room and began shedding his own clothing, hanging up his suit, making mentions of dry cleaning, before brushing his teeth.

From her position, she could feel his hands brushing gently her back, following the lines of her punishment, and listened as mouse winced in pain. He vanished for a moment and returned with some salve which he rubbed on her bottom, pressing slightly her tight hole with a digit of a finger. It felt humiliating or being weirdly violated in this way. He hadn't allowed a plug to be worn for more than week before, and mouse was very tight. A second finger grazed her slit and rubbed her clit and she heard chuckle because despite everything she was wet down there. Again wishing the ground would just swallow her up, he continued rubbing a little faster, edging her, until he took his hand away leaving her feeling strongly empty and replaced it with his cock. Grabbing a fist full of her hair he pulled her as he entered her, feeling her body stretch to accommodate his size as her cunt pulsed around him. He pulled her hair to remind her that this was for his pleasure and any pleasure she might feel was of no consequence.

When he finished, he did have his slave clean off his cock with her mouth. Then he climbed into bed, while she cleaned herself up a little. "you can finish yourself off there if you'd like." he said from the bed. It was a hint to mouse that the punishment was over. Rubbing her clit mouse did just that and then returned to Him thanked him for allowing that. Again knelt this time by the bed, and asked permission to enter it, which he did grant and pulled her very close. The next morning he pulled out the small plug and slid it into place. He said that he was thinking about allowing mouse to touch one or two of the plugs, but wasn't sure yet. 

Monday, April 9, 2018

Twists and Turns of Understanding

“I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality the touchstone, the command, my pivot. I don’t mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I don’t mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling, be all that I am capable of doing, but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding.” 

-- Ana├»s Nin

How many times has this quote been published in here and other blogs? One line in particular really resonates deeply the part that goes, "His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality the touchstone, the command, my pivot." 

There are hundreds of moments like this contained within the numerous words that filled this blog (or journal), but even more moments that weren't shared. Not really certain why or why not, some probably seemed insignificant at the time. Each were an opportunity to learn (probably). Each lesson was either embraced, dismissed or eventually, often much later understood. Today, mouse has a deeper understanding of her real purpose as Master's slave than she did years ago. 

Have you ever struggled to learn something, set out with some measure of determination to understand it thoroughly only to fail? Then years later, you just "get it" it's as though the skies opened with a voice on high saying, "This is it!" Finally you understand it and then, suddenly after you curse yourself for being such a ninny for not grasping it the first, second or even third time, you wonder why it took so long? What was different this time that made that bit of learning so easy? Was it the teacher or the way it was explained, or maybe more succinctly you were just ready for it now? 

Years ago, before we were really Omega and, mouse, we were experimenting with how this thing we would eventually do, might work. He began instructing on what he wanted, needed or simply just desired, and most were little things. He liked it when the female (in this case mouse) dressed in a feminine way, with hair, makeup, etc. He would offer small compliments on appearance or colors choices, or a not too subtle rebuke, "are you wearing that?" Like the "tie dyed finery" comment of  a few years before that. A small dig. He knew she could look better, behave better and well, become better. At first the modifications were tiny almost insignificant, and mouse was an accommodating subject for him. Then there was the first eyebrow arch of his. That first time something was said fell under scrutiny

It was a simple thing, "Have a nice day." What could be so wrong about that? Yet, there it was, his eyebrow up but offered nothing else. A few more times and the same reaction, yet nothing was said. Although as many long-time readers are well aware, Omega can express more with that one small action than most men can express in a volume of words. Eventually, one morning he remarked on it, quietly, while pulling mouse close in an embrace. "Do you feel it is proper for a slave to command a Master?" -- It was something she forgot about, only to find that mouse had lightly mentioned it before in a previous post. 'Lightly mentioned' because it was hidden within a post about using the pronoun "i". Honestly that's a common thread for mouse, sticking a deeper thought within a filter of something else so she can't dwell on them and that tidbit of control goes unnoticed by all involved.

The remark left mouse unsettled, but undaunted she continued to say, "have a nice day" whenever he left for work, or a trip or whatever adjusting the words accordingly. "Have a nice day" or "Have a safe trip." There's nothing wrong with that, right?  Probably another lesson mouse wasn't ready to learn, because after all, she had said this daily to her former owner and he never corrected her. With some haughty delight mouse considered Omega, at least at times, to be a rather lazy Master, after all he was cheating, he had a fully trained slave. He didn't have to teach mouse what slavery was. Yes, her head was swimming with thoughts about how great she was and what great luck for him to find her.  

Looking back at those times, it's a wonder Master put up with mouse at all. He's patient but that patience must surely been stretched quite far by that time. The fun stuff, sex and sadism were the easy bits. It was the nuts and the bolts that were the problem. We got along well (which is probably why we lasted) but there were times that mouse came along kicking and screaming. It wasn't until last year, when things began to really turn around and mouse had finally understood all the mistakes and how hard the road was ahead to repair the damage was going to be. 

As a couple mouse always envisioned herself maybe a few steps behind him (and sometimes even ahead of him). Now she was learning how very far behind him she really was. It was as though he were at the summit of Everest and mouse was thinking basecamp must be the top. So far down the mountain was she, that He couldn't see her. Maybe she slid, or just fell. Now looking back with 20/20 vision that only seeing things in retrospect can bring, mouse has the feeling she wasn't even on the same mountain. Now, Master says something different about that. He is generous to point out that there was always a lot going on but did sense that the only time that mouse truly connected with her slavery to Him was at the lake. 
Going back for a moment to the common turn of phrase, "have a nice day," and his remark some years earlier was a lesson that mouse wasn't ready to understand -- even though in the linked post it should seem that she did understand that. There's a difference between saying "i hope you have a nice day" and "have a nice day." Let's be clear first, we aren't talking snark. It was never (or rarely said) with any sort of sarcasm. It was never wielded like a whip. Yet, it did smack of a command. It was subtle. It was wrong for mouse to say that no matter how well-intentioned it was meant. He said more than once it was innocent and without any malice and still just a teeny bit out of bounds. A slave shouldn't presume to command a Master in anything. A lesson learned, sure maybe that took longer than it should, but still learned. 

A realization that brought her closer to where he was.