In Living Everyday

 It's been a while, likely too long. Life pushing forward, each day, some mundane, dull or super exciting. We struggle at times to sustain balance, or at least mouse does. 

Recently, Master said something to mouse. Not paying attention, embroiled in cooking a difficult recipe (early part of that process), mouse responded curtly to Him. 

Master asked, "Has something changed?" 

Looking at Him, with a very much deer in a headlight look, in a tiny voice mouse replied, "No, Master." The word Master had caught in her throat. It wasn't the first time He'd put that question to her. Each time she prays silently it will the last.  Or maybe not. Maybe it's important for mouse to remind herself that she's chosen to be His slave above all other things. 

In the empty house mouse bent herself over the table and lifted her skirt. He grabbed the wooden spoon and delivered several hard thwacks that made her wince, tremble and eventually call out.  He parted her legs and entered her from behind while whispering, "mine." Maybe it wasn't a whisper, it could have been an angry growl. 

Once she offered herself she knew there was no ever going back. We've had good and terrible times, times where we did think we couldn't continue and yet, we did. It all came back to that moment where mouse begged for His control over her entire being. There was no "collar" to beg for in any literal sense. His control was more binding than any collar anyway. That was what she truly wanted, even if she didn't understand how badly she needed to be under His thumb. 

Consent is a tricky word and make no mistake, mouse thoroughly consented to be His. There are times, when she needs Him to be rough with her, to remind her of that place only she belongs. Often she doesn't know how to really articulate that specific need, and has mused more than once how much more simple everything would be if she only could. That's not to say that He doesn't have His own needs. The need to physically hurt her, to make her suffer and cry, and when that passes to hold her until all those broken pieces He's reduced her to come back together. Being a masochist is confusing. Maybe being a sadist is as well? 

In our everyday world, we do practice, consensual-non consent. Meaning mouse understands full well that that she really has no choice, no agency or option, except to comply, so that's why when He speaks simply and asks if anything has changed the words are jarring. Deep down, He knows full well that mouse is nothing but His slave. Prodding isn't really warranted, except to remind mouse. 

After He flipped her skirt down, covering her reddened ass, He asked the question again and mouse responded. Then she slipped to her knees and groveled at His feet, whether in thanks or in apology, even mouse remained unsure, but the calm had swept her and she was overwhelmed as all the frustration, anger and everything she had been feeling dissipated. He stood for a few moments longer and helped her to her feet and kissed her forehead like a child. 

With her mind now empty, the focus had returned and mouse was able to make that very complicated meal without another problem. Dinner was delicious that evening. Together we cleaned up the kitchen, and then it was quiet time for us. Master sent mouse ahead to the bedroom to ready for bed. It wasn't late enough for sleep but mouse readied herself anyway and wondered. When He entered the room He flipped on the television, and sat in His chair, called mouse to Him and pointed where she should be His footstool. 

Meditation helps since she doesn't know how long she'll be like that -- on thing is true, her muscles ache after (she's seriously not as young as she used to be). Still the weight of His legs is nice on her back. At least this time He didn't add clover clamps to her breasts and let those hang weighted and touchy.  He removed His legs and she felt her nightgown being lifted up and dared to not move. He fondled and probed her smooth sex, drawing out her clit, until she was so close to orgasm, she felt the bit, the pain as her clit tried to crawl back, but couldn't. Soon her nipples were similarly trapped (not with clover but alligator clamps) and she struggled to not cry. The very long penis gag helped that was next attached. it's like harness of sorts that attaches to the back of her head. It's humiliating to her, making her feel more as an object. An "It" rather than even a "she" and Master knows this. The penis gag only begins to invade her throat, but she can breathe around it and through her nose. That doesn't stop Him from holding her nose for  a moment or three causing her to mentally panic, before that panic becomes too great, He releases her.

He removed the clamp attached to her clit and ruthlessly began rubbing that area to full arousal once again, but instead of returning the clamp, He pushes it further, rubbing and stroking the area, from clit to pee hole and back to clit. The pressure building is delicious that she barely notices when the alligator clamps are removed, barely but she does gasp as the blood rushes back, down there she can feel her pussy clench and everything convulses in a toe curling orgasm, she even squirted. At this point she is fiercely sucking on that gag still in her mouth. 

Alongside His chair is a large floor pillow (much like dog bed), He attaches the dog collar snuggly to her throat and clips her to the lead that's attached to a heavy eye hook in the floor. 

"Stay" 

The mouse pet obeys, curling up into a ball and falls into a very uncomplicated sleep. Several hours later she feels the tugging of the lead, a toe poking her rousing her from slumber. Blinking the gag is still in her mouth, and Master has the lead in His fist.  He leads her along heeling almost at His side, to the bathtub, He watches as she bathes in silence. tells her to be still and removes the gag from her mouth, He says "over" and as she moves obediently to all fours, and inserts the enema tip into her bottom. The liquid fills her making her feel uncomfortable and she also really needs to pee.  

He timed it out, then leaving the tip inserted guided her at last to the commode (pulled the tip) and allowed her to empty everything. Today, and maybe only for today, He was going to control her thoroughly -- maybe it will go on, maybe forever? Maybe this will be the time where He finally takes her to that place and leaves her -- a mental island where her only thoughts are of Him. For now, she can only focus on now and Him and being His slave. 

It did go on for a while, and for a brief moment she did consider that she was being taken to the mental island and left there where she was something He wished her to be, part human and part animal, the thoughts and concepts like time passing didn't register. It was mediation that went on and on. When He started bringing her out or around He first allowed her to bathe and wash her hair. The gag was gone, and she missed it.  He allowed her to wear clothing and walk on her feet. It felt odd. 

Master asked, "Are you ok?" and when mouse nodded meekly, He said, "Say it." 

The words formed slowly, "Yes Master." Her body actually ached, but her clit was thrumming still, yearning and pleading for more. The thoughts swirling as she remembered all the things she had done and had been done to her and how she wanted more of that. It felt greedy. Even when she thought she didn't want it, now it was over she wanted to get back to that odd place of calm and safety.  He let her adjust, climbing out of that place she knew now she didn't want to leave but knew He now required her to.  At times the tears welled and flowed, He didn't coddle her, but simply dabbed them and kissed her forehead. He didn't tell her she was a good girl (the memories of Him saying those words were clear during the disjointed time), her body felt used ,but her reflection showed nothing -- except a different her. 

Over the next hours and maybe a day, mouse slowly came back to a peaceful place, that place where she is largely unflappable, compliant and happy. That happy feeling didn't leave even when things really did return to normal. The in-laws for breakfast, the kids arguing and Master smiling. He's content and happy too. 

 

Look Around

 Look around

Leaves are brown

And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

We have a family rule, when or if the weather is good, we are not in the house often. We take walks, go for drives, do all the usual things but outside a bunch. Sure, cooking, cleaning and all those things are accomplished as needed. When Master retired and we moved here, He decided that since last winter was so hard (yet cozy) we would take advantage of the good or even decent months. Most weekends we are out and about. 

This weekend signaled the change, last weekend we were still enjoying the outdoors (and decorating the indoors), finishing the big shopping and preparing for the next few months. Getting out of "gumdrop mountain" can be dodgy even dangerous. This weekend poor (not yet terrible) weather hit keeping us sequestered indoors. The winds blew, snow flurries mixed with rain and sleet blotted our landscape. Inside Master set up the two card tables, one will be for puzzles the other for board games (when the power goes out as it will eventually do). 

We are prepared, as well as we can be for such eventuality -- a small generator will keep our food cold and frozen -- along with phones, albeit, one at a time charged. Heat, lights and other comforts are not included in that -- but we do have a wood burning fireplace (not the greatest for heating, but it's better than nothing), plenty of blankets and candles. Keeping water boiling on the stove (we have gas), helps add a bit of humidity and is perfect for also washing dishes (or even ourselves). If last winter is an indication, when the power goes we're stuck for at least a few days (depending on the reason).

If we're lucky this winter we won't have too many days of bitter cold temperatures (crossing fingers) so if the power does go out, we shouldn't need to worry about frozen pipes. 

As Master's slave it's up to her to be open to whatever He desires. The anticipating of being useful to Him is almost as great as being used by Him.  In preparation, mouse bathed in the tub, carefully washing and shaving whatever needed. Then drying off, she made her way to the spot on the floor and waited, kneeling, bent forward, ass up, breasts buried in carpet, arms outstretched in subjugation. Oh, she hoped He would use her and hoped He would allow her to orgasm. The cool air swirled around her feeling the gentle gust of air around her when He breezed into the bedroom, closing and locking the door behind Him. He made His own way to the bathroom and heard Him shrugging off His clothing and brushing His teeth. He seemed to pause briefly but mouse couldn't say where He was but she hoped the closet where the box of stuff was stored, high on a shelf with a lock that only He could reach and open. The music turned on, filling the room she was in with sounds. Nothing too exciting some  jazz (Thelonious Monk, perhaps).  

Louder might indicate heavier noisy use, softer could mean reading, funny how well she understands the routines. He ordered her to get onto the bed and present herself there. He was in no mood to bend down to her level on the floor, so she scrambled onto the bed, and assumed the same position. He probed her open legs and chuckled at her neediness. Heat rose in a flush of her face, feeling a bit humiliated and resigned to the fact there would likely be no orgasm for her, He would take her for His lingering pleasures. 

He had applied a tiny portion of lubricant to His cock, and began to push against her tight asshole, rarely trained with plugs anymore. To remain silent mouse stuffed blanket into her mouth and whimpered until His head pushed through and began the laborious process of stretching her ass, but soon those painful whimpers shifted to moans of pleasure that surprise her, repeated thrusts of backing completely out and ramming His length back inside brought sensations and delights to her. Perhaps orgasm wasn't off the table? He took His time, each thrust nearly propelling her forcefully forward. He came with a groan and removed His cock almost unceremoniously, rubbing it on her ass cheeks, before slipping a large glass plug into her asshole. From the orange juicer size mouse gleaned it was the one that doesn't allow for sitting, as it protrudes with a ring, which He attached to a length of rope and tethering her to the bed or to Him, she cannot be certain. He pulled her head to His cock and she kissed it, in thanks. He offered no words or instruction or otherwise, simply laid upon the bed, picking up a book to begin reading, while mouse not feeling tired or completed snuggled behind her head resting low on His abdomen. Almost absentmindedly, He petted her on occasion, much like a dog. Eventually He put the book aside, switched off the music and lights and rolled over, leaving her feeling unneeded, aroused and all points between.  

Sleep (albeit uncomfortable) did find her, but soon she felt Him stirring, His cock hard again, and He pulled her around first to use her mouth, forcing her down on the long length making her gag and choke, then stopped, instead pushing her legs open. In the dark room, His disembodied voice told her to spread her legs and warned this would hurt a lot. The plug still buried in her ass He pressed His cock against her opening, grazing the clit, toying with it, drawing it out of its hiding space before abandoning it and shoving quickly into her extra tiny pussy. This did make her whimper with real tears spilling from her eyes. Honestly mouse tried to scoot herself away from the invader but to no avail, as He curtly slapped her face, reminding her to not do that. The pain was intense, the pressure from the huge plug in her ass, and the distinct lack of space in her pussy made her cry. He murmured how good it felt to use her this way. He pulled Himself out and barked at her to move onto her knees, as He positioned her and took her from behind, which hurt even more. Softly pleading now for mercy as He rutted her from behind. Then He said, "rub your clit" and that was truly the last thing she wanted to do when her hand didn't move fast enough she got smacked hard on the rear and quickly began following His instructions to rub it or pinch it or even hurt it at His command. 

He called her a sloppy messy slut and she blushed thoroughly, knowing it was true suddenly feeling ashamed that the heady mix of sleepiness and pain had somehow shifted into pleasure. When He pulled out of her suddenly and she felt spurts of His seed on her back she knew she was in trouble. He roughly flipped her over onto her back, and slapped her hand away from her clit and He rubbed at it, until that tiny nub began to show itself and then was pinched hard. He hand dug into her thighs as His fingers continued to torture the hapless clit, cautioning her to not make a sound, until He forced an orgasm out of her, and then immediately began torturing the now incredibly tender thing all over again until she came twice more. Then He rather harshly pulled the plug from her bottom with a plop and dragged her to the shower where He roughly washed her off and then told her to strip the bed and change all the bedding. 

Before she was barely finished with the bed remaking, fresh clean everything and herself feeling clean He had climbed back in, and told her to lay beside Him. Using her body much like a pillow, He snaked Himself around her and told her to not move. There we stayed until the morning alarm. 

The Way It Is

Some things will never change...

There's been a need to discuss something (or maybe confess?) about how punishments are handled today. Some might think mouse is just so perfect there's never a need to punish her -- well, they'd be totally wrong. If anything punishments or corrections are even more frequent since Master retired. Maybe He just notices when mouse has misbehaved, or perhaps He always knew but since He wasn't around let certain things slide? Honestly, she cannot say. What she can say is that He's even more exacting than ever. He wants things done His way. Some of this is because now with us living out in far more rural area there's more need to be organized. One thing about Master, He wastes nothing, not a step or even word.  

Some might recall in 2019, when mouse had the appendicitis and was in a coma, one small gift Master was exceptionally grateful for was that He hadn't marked the slave. Life can go sideways at a moment's notice, so He vowed to never mark the slave. However, there are times when He feels it necessary to inflict a more direct punishment, it's equally amazing how He can inflict pain without leaving a lasting mark. Most of the time anyway. Occasionally, He will leave a mark (or marks) behind and in that case mouse understands this means she will NOT under any circumstance be allowed to leave the home, cook, do any cleaning that involves ladders or anything that might cause an injury. Mostly she's to sit, she might be allowed some light exercise under His supervision but the slave isn't allowed to handle anything sharp. 

Now, lets be clear, for the most part, mouse rarely cuts herself while cooking (or burns herself) but Master doesn't want to take any chances so if her infraction was so great that it required say the cane then her punishment continues until the marks fade (usually a few days).  During those times, she is meant to suffer in silence and be extra attentive to Master. He might use her for His own gratification, but not for her enjoyment or pleasure. 

Punishments affect her deeply, probably since they're really about failures, specifically her failure to be slave she knows He expects her to be. The slave He knows she can be. Since we have no designated area to delve out punishments His bedroom (the Master bedroom) became the place where those take place. Discreetly placed heavy gage eye hooks remind her of transgressions. In that Master bedroom, like a dungeon mouse isn't allowed to speak anymore. Or wear clothing, which must be removed upon entry (even if she's only there to make the bed, or clean the attached bathroom). He has a camera installed to make sure that mouse follows that simple rule. Master has a home theater type thing with surround sound which does mask out sounds but He expects slave to be as quiet as a mouse. He will gag her for serious punishments, but otherwise she's simply expected to keep quiet. The bed is His, and if He chooses He can invite mouse to join Him. Except after punishments, then she is expected to sleep on the floor beside the bed.  

Well, then there's punishments where a mark is left behind, then she's not allowed to be in His presence at all.  In years past she might have been caged, but now she's simply not allowed in the bedroom at all, except for brief supervised moments. Good girls get to sleep in Master's room, bad girls do not. Taking Himself away from her has a profound effect on her, usually sending her in a spiral of depression. That whole period she knows she's unworthy. Nothing will change that except time. That time can stretch out as long as Master wishes too.  He controls that.  Master knows how long a mark will last, most last a day or two, deeper ones can last a week or even more. 

The punishments can be stacked, depending on time or if it's something she is fully aware is fucking wrong. Like leaving the house without a detailed shopping list, creating a working menu, or a failure in housekeeping duties  Or forgetting her cellphone if she's out on her own -- that's the worst ever.  None of this happens often but when she does it sends her into a panic. He expects a text message when she arrives at the destination and again before she leaves. He knows in advance the route she will take and how long it should take. When He's with her (which is often these days), she doesn't need to worry as much, except that the list is ON HER PHONE. So leaving the house then, without a list, knowing fully well shopping is involved and trying to "wing it" isn't acceptable. Even if she does remember everything she will be punished.  He will never punish her if we decide to just pop into a store to pick up something like for dinner or whatever. He's not unreasonable. 

Small infractions can just mean corner time, larger ones can mean corner time and she's expected to hold a coin with her nose and stand perfectly still so that the coin doesn't drop.  He doesn't need to be punished with her for that since He has a camera installed that might or might not be motion activated. Those are things she's not allowed to ask about. He will never answer a question He finds inappropriate. No, bad punishments are when she knows she's screwed up big time and for some stupid reason decides that she doesn't care. The truth is that she does care and hates to fall short in her slavery and hates herself every time she does. Suffering through the punishment period is very hard both mentally and physically. 

A lie of any kind is fast way to get punished, even a gentle lie is very bad in His eyes. Now, if she planned a special thing for His birthday, or is for Him, He won't ask details to ruin a surprise (unless He's unsure He'd like the surprise) but He expects the slave to answer Him honestly. He won't ask questions about Amazon boxes that arrive around holiday time (He could look at the account if He wanted to and probably does). We do actively discuss what we are buying, how much we expect to spend and other things that are common to every couple. 

He tracks just about every aspect of our life together, He knows exactly how many minutes she spends exercising, He knows how long it'll take type this post, how much time she watches videos on TikTok (cooking and cleaning stuff is all she's allowed -- or maybe a cute dog or cat video) anything political is strictly forbidden. Actually that's the only social media she's allowed, only to watch, like and save videos other's create -- He doesn't allow her to leave a comment. He's just as protective as He's always been. In some ways even more so -- in other ways not. 

*********

We had planned to meet that other couple we know, but it didn't work out. Instead we had to attend a funeral for friend of Master. The death wasn't unexpected and cancer sucks -- we just didn't know when. So when the call came we were both unsurprised and yet disappointed the one time we had made plans...

Meh, what can you do? He called right away and they "met" virtually to talk but that was it.  Instead Master booked a hotel and we all traveled for the funeral (our kids and their kids are friends). We expressed our condolences, offered whatever comfort we could and drove back home still in our funeral attire.  It was probably for the best we didn't get to go since it probably would have only served to remind mouse how different our lives are and caused a small pang of jealousy (or maybe regret?). 

Our Thanksgiving was good and our home filled with family and close friends, we broke bread, laughed and reminisced and we suppose it's how it should be. 

We hope your holiday finds you warm, healthy and abundantly happy!  

Mr Blue Sky

 Mr. Blue Sky please tell us why

You had to hide away for so long (so long)

Where did we go wrong?

Well, when this post was begun the blue sky was gorgeous, then the clouds rolled in and we returned to cool temperatures. It's ironic that in a month we'll probably be collectively complaining about the excessive heat and dreaming of autumn. Maybe we're just all ungrateful? That's been the new motto, to be grateful for everything. Expressing gratitude for the little and big things and even being grateful for the not-so-good since there are always lessons to be learned from those too. Master is doing well, and mouse is feeling tightly controlled. There's a lot of comfort in that feeling. 

It's not lost on mouse that she's been exceedingly quiet of late. It's not for the lack of wanting to post, rather the good time to sit and contemplate what to say. Here's how it goes: mouse will be doing some task, and the thought will pop into her head that she should blog about this. Then much later, she's settled with a glass of iced tea, chores completed and reaches for the laptop only to discover it's dead. Sighing she plugs it in, and goes about some chores -- it's easy to find something to do.  

Later Master asks why is the laptop plugged in and mouse stares at the now fully charged light and mumbles something or other about the blog. Then a week passes another idea creeps into her head and the cycle repeats. At last a spare moment presents itself, and then mouse stares at the blinking cursor. What do you say? Does anyone even care? Or has this blog been long forgotten? Has everyone moved on? 

Our relationship looks much the same as it always had. We've changed though. Life in the country, fresh eggs, family close by -- it's weird and comfortable for us. Outwardly our lives must seem vanilla. Away from prying eyes, then it's different. We have new rules that we live our lives by. Winters are long, dark, gloomy, cold rainy, snowy and windy. We decided that we're taking advantage of the good weather (or somewhat good weather) every chance we can. Master has a stack of books to read, He said He'll read when it is storming and mouse has an endless supply of magazines to look at. We've been working hard getting everything prepared for winter also. Master has readied the house, had the wood stove and fireplace cleaned, our outside yard/garden projects are winding down. Leaves are dropping and when mouse complained about them being tracked into the house, Master shushed her reminding her now, it's the leaves, next will be the mud and snow. He's got a point, at least the leaves can be picked up. 

We've taken long walks (almost dare we say hikes) in the area, and Master enjoys fishing in the nearby river. All too soon, winter will be upon us so, we're just determined to soak up every bit of outside until we just can't anymore. Soon the ceiling fan will be turned off and extra blankets will be piled onto the beds (which is a reminder to mouse they need to be washed). Next week, we're taking a couple days and visiting a couple Master knows, they're Master and slave but their lives are very different, they don't have kids or family around and are able to live their dream life. 

Maybe that'll be something to write about when we return? 

You are the Song

 The heart has its beaches, its homeland and thoughts of its own. 

Wake now discover you are the song the morning brings...

It's not all sunshine and lollipops. While most days the struggles are held at bay there are moments, since Master's retirement from His workaday life, that have been a struggle for His slave. Sure, He smiles far easier than He used to, cracks jokes, even dumb dad jokes that annoy the kids. He isn't stressed, His focus is now trained on other things. He reads more, takes walks, plays the piano for fun and gets plenty of use of His favorite possession, His slave. Being home affords Him more opportunity to make use of His slave, corner time is better supervised without distractions of business. There's something about being made to stand in the corner of the room, skirt hiked up with her flaming red, freshly spanked bottom exposed. The humiliation felt seemed to be doubled now, although the slave isn't sure why. Perplexed by this, she sat quietly with the thoughts, 'why does this bothers her more now?'

His hand brought her thoughts quickly back around to Him, He had asked a question but lost in her deep chasm of thoughts she had missed it. This time the wooden dowel swished on her backside, making her yelp with surprise and pain. That will leave a mark surely at least for a few hours. Tears welled in her eyes, as she croaked out an apology. The question was repeated (something unrelated to punishment), and was answered. Master then released her from the wall, sending her to the kitchen to clean. Before leaving mouse stands in front of Him with her head lowered, thanking Him for the correction, assuring Him it will not happen again (and it won't). 

He waved her away, picked up His book and began to read. Washing the breakfast pots and pans and rather carelessly, mouse continued to ponder the punishment and remained completely unaware that Master had entered the kitchen. He grabbed her wrist and squeezed asking her curtly what the fuck was wrong with her?! The action made her again yelp in pain and she began to cry. For the second time that day, she was bent unceremoniously over His knee and paddled this time with a silicone spatula. Falling to the floor at His feet she groveled, pleading that she will be more careful. 

Getting lost in her own head was no longer allowed. There were outlets more appropriate, a journal she can write down those feelings, she could blog about it, she could as always, discuss it with Master. He will not abide with her silence and lack of detail to whatever task performing. Now to be clear His tone rang with frustration and no anger was detected. The tears that fell were very real, her remorse truthful, but the explanation was not forthcoming. How can she express what she doesn't understand? Perhaps it's not to be understood and rather accepted? 

Instead of making an obvious empty promise the slave remained at His feet sputtering apologies and said she didn't know why her focus was so off. Master wasn't sure if He was getting to the meat of the problem, but He felt, at last there was real honesty coming from His slave. He said nothing more but sent slave to resume her task, and making her rewash everything. 

Feeling only slightly resentful of this order, mouse began to rewash each pot and pan and only then noticed how negligent she had been in her previous wash. Fresh remorse kept into her heart as she scrubbed nearly violently each pot until they gleamed like new. Much later, mouse sat quietly in front of the blank journal pages and began to write. Perhaps it was the distance from the events of the morning but some clarity came to her at last. The corner time punishment does feel more humiliating than from before and the reason was simple. Master's focus was on her alone. There was no familiar click-clack of His fingers on the keyboard. at that time, she was an ornament to be glanced at, not to be stared at and mentally examined. 

At times it does feel like He's boring into her soul. Does she even have a soul? If she did, He claimed it long ago or it was simply given up to Him. He's her higher power. No matter how He says He doesn't like it when she says that -- to her -- it is simply truth.  In the Master bedroom, nude, writing at the table she hears Him come in and closes the door behind Him. He goes into the adjacent bathroom and readies Himself for bed, brushing His teeth, gargling, then emerges with His bathrobe and slippers on. He scoots the slave onto the floor and begins to read what she wrote. He swivels on the bench seat and opens His robe, His cock is flaccid but easily awakened as she employs her mouth. 

"Rub yourself" Master says, making mouse pause for a moment. 

"If it's all the same, Master, would prefer to not and just offer you pleasures." Eyes briefly raise to meet His and quickly fall to that beautiful cock before her.  

He seems to ponder that for a moment or three and repeats the command to rub her clit whilst sucking Him...

To be continued?

The Winter Routine

"Comes the lightning of the sun
On bright unfocused eyes
The blue of yet another day
A springtime wet with sighs
A hopeful candle lingers..."

We have lots of snow, so much it makes getting "out" difficult. Getting into town to collect our mail, which is now done weekly if possible. Grocery shopping are saved for the days between. Tuesday last was a glorious day, bright, sunny and just made you feel as light as could ever be. The sun so bright it blinded especially with that crisp white backdrop. Millions of stars filled the night's sky, until the clouds rolled in and the gray returned. 

We didn't waste any time, getting up that morning we showered and dressed quickly for the day. Master set to work clearing the driveway, while mouse prepared breakfast for everyone. Spinach omelette for Master and slave, oatmeal with dried fruit and frozen blueberries for the children. The breakfast table set, the morning music courtesy of Electric Light Orchestra -- Mr Blue Sky, had everyone tapping their feet. The slave slipped the pre-packed lunches into the girls book bags and then heard the horn of the school bus approach to its stop by the main road. 

No time for playing around (normally, after the house was empty, Master would have slave remove her bathrobe, suck His cock under the table and follow the instructions to rub vigorously her own clit but not to any conclusion for her). Master was grabbing the breakfast basket full of bread, rolls and whatever else mouse had made the precious days and pulled on His boots, saying He'd be back soon, hopefully with eggs. His sibling who lives quite close (roughly a half mile away-- maybe longer) and keeps chickens. Without a lot of fanfare, mouse murmured a quick "be careful on that footbridge Sir," and gave Him a quick kiss. Breakfast table was quickly cleared, dishes washed up, and tidied when He returned with 4 dozen eggs, which mouse divided by size. Smaller eggs are saved for meals, larger eggs are divided up for baking and the largest ones are usually hard-boiled. We know they were all recently collected so after they're washed up and placed in cartons we just reuse, mouse put on her coat and grabbed her extensive shopping list. 

He was finishing up His coffee but didn't linger over it, the way He'd normally do. He walked out to the SUV and started it up, warming it, while mouse double checked the list and freezer. This was going to be a huge haul since we haven't gotten out for a while. After deciding the best use of the time, Master drove to our first stop. After the third stop, we stopped for a quick lunch, before continuing. We had in all three boxes and 8 bags filled with groceries. We do not want to think about how much every item costs. 

Then when we returned home, came the unloading and then arranging into preparation groups. Fresh veggies are washed and prepped. Some are frozen for easy meals, others are prepped into containers in the fridge. Meats are portioned out, wrapped, labeled and put into the freezer. It usually takes a couple hours to get everything restocked and organized. Nothing is wasted anymore, bottoms of celery, herbs, whatever are tossed into a bag and used for stocks. Same with chicken bones, placed in a special bag and frozen until mouse needs more chicken stock or wants to make a soup.  

Notes are made about laundry to do (for the next day). Master went down to collect our mail and pay any bills. We accomplish much, and then time for a break before the school bus returns. Master in His chair motions for slave. who kneels and crawls to Him. Removing His boots, kissing His feet. Feeling her own want, as she makes her way up His legs to His cock and kissing its tip before sucking the head. Soon her mouth is full of Him, and she feels His hands guiding it further toward her throat. If she chokes, it's only because He wishes her to and He wants her to be slobbery, because there were lots of deep thrusts. Down there her pussy because wet and her clit throbs but this isn't about her. It's all about Master and somehow that just makes her want Him all the more. 

Eagerly she swallows the ropes of thick cum without the benefit of tasting or savoring Master's flavor. His cock is too far down her throat and she feels like a sword swallower in a circus. After mouse crawls off and get's a towel to clean off Master of her drool and washing His shaft with her tongue. Then she kneels before Him with her head lowered, awaiting a word. Dismissed, she rises and walks to the bathroom to clean herself up as she can hear the school bus. Within minutes the front door bursts open and the house is filled with noisy chatter. Suddenly, mouse regrets that she didn't beg Master to use the belt on her anything to quell the throbbing going on down below. Dinner is already prepped and it's an easy meal (Costco Chickens, mashed potatoes, fresh green beans, salad), so all that's left might be a treat for dessert. Master cuts up the chicken and mouse cooks everything else. After dinner the women folk clear the table, while Master enjoys a cup of coffee and cigar on the porch. The rest of the evening mouse is in the kitchen, either cleaning up, ironing, or knitting while the dishwasher runs. In the den area the girls are quietly reading until bedtime, as is Master. It's nice because the kitchen is also the warmest room in the house so mouse can remain in her bare feet. Before the girls go to bed, they say goodnight to mouse and we chat a little about their lunches for the next day. Left over chicken, garlic naan, hummus, veggies, fruit, and a thermos of soup are on their menu.  

The lunch boxes are placed in the fridge and finally the light is turned off.  At Master's feet, He instructs her to get ready for bed, so off she goes. Undressing, drawing a bath and washes trying to not pay any mind to her throbbing sex. Master enters just as she's nearly finished bathing. He inspects His slave quickly, surely making note of her clit and slick wetness. He rubs it with a finger and when He notes His slave becomes greedy He takes it away. In the bedroom, He has mouse present her hands and He binds them, then slips the dog collar around her neck, He said she was a bad girl for rubbing her sex on His fingers (no, He's not really mad, but never misses an opportunity to remind His slave where her place truly is). He tethers her to the wall, watches as she curls up on the huge dog cushion and covers her with a blanket. Hearing His footfalls and the sounds of bed as He climbs in, moving around the pillows. Sleep is complicated for her, as she contemplates gratitude. It seems odd. At some point during the night she feels Him uncovering her and unbinding her hands and then the collar is removed. Sleepily she waits, then she hears Him say, "come". In bed He uses her like a pillow, cautioning her to get all mischievous.

Welcoming 2023

Where to begin? It's been so long since mouse thought or considered updating, yet a few days ago there was an invisible pull to return to this precious space. So many changes over the course the last part of year. Guess that bullet points are the way to go so here's a list of changes. Some might be expanded upon later in this post, or in future posts (hey, we are planning on posting again). 

• Everyone is FINE! 
• We moved to the country -- Big change
• We left Twitter! 
• Master retired (like for real)

We had an opportunity we really couldn't refuse but it took a long time to even think about moving, getting the new digs the way we needed it to be and a whole lot of sweat equity. We hired contractors to do the really heavy stuff, but all the cosmetic work was done by us. We're proud of our hard work. It's been a big change. We still have too much stuff, so the plan is to only keep what we really want/need or is too sentimental to consider letting go. Master is very handy to have around. He's been patiently mudding and taping the walls that still require that. It's been difficult, living surrounded by a cloud of dust, evoking memories of "Pigpen" from the Peanuts gang. Recently, while knitting by the fire, Master was doing His sanding, when He got a text message, then mouse's phone alerted her that He was texting. It simply read, "Jeff Beck passed." instead of replying, mouse yelled "NOOOOOOO" Then quickly head to Google hoping for a mistake or error, but no, it was long confirmed. It still leaves mouse feeling a bit unnerved. But that might be best served with another post at some point. 

We're surviving winter (though it's been a lot harder than we expected, including a record snow fall that 'locals' claim never happens (almost, because it happened last year too, albeit later). The California girl is adapting -- slowly. Autumn was wonderful and we had so much fun (we were moving in) getting ready for the coming winter, which meant mouse learning new skills. Of course, Master is on hand to help her better arrange her days. Odd, but we're not so far out, it's not like the lake where we an hour or more from the nearest town. Here, we're probably about 15-25 minutes from nice grocery stores, big box warehouse, and Target. Oh! And the ever important Dom Depot is probably around 35 minutes from us. 

Master is finding new ways to torture His slave. Since retiring the house projects thankfully have been keeping Him occupied but the terrible weather stalled the work plans, so it's a bit like the lockdown. We're all together -- all the time. Again, mouse has tried to knit and managed to make Him a scarf that will someday be completed when she figures out how to end it. It's true, she doesn't know how to stop. Don't worry, it's not too long...Yet! 

One morning, mouse emerged from the bedroom in search of coffee, Master had been up for hours already (He had issues slowing down immediately following His retirement) and announced, "I have deactivated our Twitter accounts and deleted the app from our devices." Then He added, "I removed the passwords, so we will not be tempted to return." He was rather glaring at mouse when He said the last bit, which instantly made her feel guilty. Somewhere in the middle of the second cup of coffee mouse finally said, "Did you say something about Twitter?" A friend always called it 'Pre-coffee Brain' and mouse finds that an apt term. 

To be clear, He decided it was time to leave it and determined that if He wasn't going to be on Twitter, neither could mouse. It made sense but she felt bad not being able to say goodbye. 

Blogging hasn't been something mouse has been thinking a lot about, maybe in part because we've been very busy -- obviously there's been a lot going on. Also, mouse worries that there isn't a lot to say. Our relationship is idyllic, in fact it's been better than ever. Well maybe that's an overstatement, but we seem to moving more as an unit, rather than mouse feeling like she's always got to scramble to keep up or be what He needs her to be. He's still the scary Dom He's always been, but He just wants things the way He wants them and refuses to compromise His lofty ideals.