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Thursday, September 12, 2019


The second wave

It has been a while since feeling strongly compelled to write. The summer months eventually bled into a return to routine with school and work. However during the summer months something rather extraordinary did occur.  One of Master's siblings did join us early on and had departed. The second wave of family arrived roughly a week later, two of his other siblings, their spouses and children arrived for longer stay. A mixture of ages, from adults to children -- many who are tween or teenage.

A small aside, since the birth of our daughter, Master has always read to the child since she was old enough to comprehend words, it's a special time for them two. He will read a chapter or two from a carefully selected book, then she'd be off to bed. This summer He brought along two books, in case they finished one, the second could begin. Truthfully, He didn't believe they'd finish the first, but He reckoned they'd get close to the end. 

Well, one such mid July evening He began to read aloud, with our daughter snuggled in His arms and lap, "Chapter One; The Boy Who Lived." 

Suddenly there was a burst of interest from other children nearby, they had been arguing loudly over a puzzle and quite disagreeable throughout the day probably because they were bored -- we adults were looking forward to quiet. They all moved toward Master, "You're reading Harry Potter!" Being older one can assume they had read the books themselves but Master is endowed with a marvelous speaking voice and can read aloud with the precision of any audio book. He cleared His throat and began to read again, slightly louder. 

The children, again, regardless of age, gathered around silently grabbing pillows and blankets to make themselves comfortable. The routine is that Master would read a chapter or two and then it was off to bed, however when He reached the end of the second chapter the gathered audience protested loudly. He was forced to continue. He read half the book that evening, finally placing a bookmark, and closing it, His voice hoarse and raspy, proclaiming He simply couldn't read another word. Curt words of disappointment from peanut gallery couldn't dissuade him this time. 

He marveled slightly, getting into bed, even our daughter was very alert, usually at the end of a couple chapters, she's yawning -- but still listening and comprehending. He also admitted that the book so far was fairly engaging -- a nice little story. The following morning after breakfast, the kids handed Him the book. This was not procedure. Soon, He was again reading and finished the book by nightfall. Now we had a problem, He had only purchased the first two books -- in case our daughter didn't enjoy the story -- there would be little point in continuing. He would read even if didn't interest Him personally, but if she wasn't enjoying the book, which does happen at times, it's an easy out for Him to stop.  One of the older children, had all the movies on their device and connected that to the TV. So, at the end of the first book, they watched the film. Discussion emerged after, about the slight differences. 

During this, mouse wasn't really paying a lot of attention, instead busying herself with family, cleaning, cooking duties and the like. Soon, though as Master began reading the second installment, adults had joined the listening party. He was reading to a crowd! It took Him three days to complete the second book, probably grateful that He had only had the first two to share. Little did He know His audience was conspiring against Him. 

He finished the second story in the early afternoon, of a sweltering hot July day and said we'd watch the movie that evening at 8pm. The older children, being old enough to be on their own vanished from the house and left for town. Town from the Lake House about a two mile walk. They returned that evening carrying the five remaining books in their arms and presented them to Master. They had, unbeknownst to all, cobbled together their money to purchase them. Of course, Master didn't feel that was completely fair and offered to reimburse them for the books. His nieces and nephews flatly refused, which was interesting for mouse to observe. That evening they watched movie, mouse only half paying attention, and engaged in a similar roundtable discussion after.    

Master sighed loudly as the next book was presented to Him, He had felt He was finished, but His niece who He simply adores said it's better than the first two. Now this one of the two Harry Potter movies that mouse had seen, Prisoner of Azkaban and Order of the Phoenix and it was somewhere in the middle of that formally mentioned book that she too, began rather avidly listening. Midway through the book, Master's enthusiasm was slightly restored -- and admitted the tale was engaging.

He finished the book, after a few more days, and we again watched the movie. More detailed discussion followed, the book and film, while close, was beginning to diverge. This only got worse with Goblet of Fire, which was a rather thrilling story that Master was more than willing to read through. He was beginning to enjoy this. The discussion after seeing the Goblet of Fire movie, went on for hours, pointing out all the inconsistencies, and how better it could have had they just followed the actual story more.

The next book, Order of the Phoenix, was an emotional roller-coaster, as mouse was more familiar with the film, sure the unlikable characters were even more hateful in the book, but the sadness toward the end was hard for even Master read. The movie, which again mouse had always somewhat enjoyed -- now was different and she joined the roundtable discussion following the last scene of the movie. The discussion was angry -- of course she knew the meat of the tale from the film, but felt they had a reduced a pivotal character introduced in Azkaban, to a mere footnote in the two previous movies, so the film could end on a false happy note -- that no way echoed the book.

Undaunted, Master continued to read, as only two more books remained and three movies -- The Half Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows, which Master probably enjoying the latter more than the former. Half Blood Prince movie did seem to follow more closely the book -- with some glaring differences. One might surmise since Deathly Hallows was broken up into two movies they would follow more closely the book but was also a disappointment. The final battle scene was far more thrilling in the book and the ending made much more sense than the dumbed down but SGI laden version of the film.They had completely changed the final showdown to make a better popcorn film and boost 3D ticket sales.

Everyone was weary at the end of our double feature, having watched Deathly Hallows Parts 1&2 back to back the day after Master finished the thrilling conclusion to the book. Time was running short, and everyone had agreed that if Master continued to read, they would all pitch in to close up the house for our soon departure. Everyone did, the roundtable abandoned, as people began packing things up, discussing the film and book differences,  as they worked without complaint. The summer was over. Everyone, including us would be returning to our workaday lives. School starting for some.

Within a couple shorts days, everything was packed, the cars loaded down, and we were all departing at the same time. Everyone thanked Him and praised His reading skills, more than one sibling remarked, they never understood their own children's fascination with the books, until now. His niece hugged him and asked what He'd be reading next summer. He politely corrected her saying that if she came, she'd be reading the next book to the crowd.

Thursday, July 18, 2019

Till the Morning Comes

Till the morning comes, it'll do you fine.
Till the morning comes like a highway sign.
Showing you the way, leaving no doubt,
Of the way on in, or the way back out.

During the time apart, slowly mouse grew to realize the house grumpiness, wasn't merely her imagination or a projection of her own needy feelings. It was real, the kids were over school, but physically they were stuck for two extra weeks. A lifetime in childhood but only a blink to an adult where months seem to pass like weeks, except now. It was painful being so far from Master. The siren call of the lake was strong and disturbed her sleep. 

Twice she took down the container where the plug was stored, her fingers slid across the smooth texture of the box before opening it, silently begging for a sign that would allow her to break a rule. Master hadn't offered any permission to touch it, let alone decide for herself to insert. In her head she could hear the displeasure in His voice. 

Each evening, once the house was quiet, alone in His study, mouse devoured the lengthy list of Expectations, like a devotional or sacred text, hoping it would soothe her. For the most part it worked, as her eyes poured over the you will's and you will not's, pausing over each of the 'never's'. Each evening mouse wrote Him a letter about the day, much like a one-sided conversation and admitted her transgressions, knowing full well she could be punished. Punishments were inevitable. It wasn't lost on her that nearly every thought or deed were sifted through His Expectations of Behavior.  

During the day, keeping busy with house cleaning, piles of clothing to be sorted, shopping (new summer clothes), laundry, packing and repacking the car until the last day of school arrived and the house was thoroughly cleaned. The clothing was packed, cherished toys carried into the car as dawn broke in the East. Finally we were on our way, the seven day cooler loaded with meats sliding on occasion. With each passing mile our collective moods lightened, the letters mouse written stored in the glovebox. Each a confession of her loneliness and even if she didn't break an expectation, but wanted to, were included. At any time she could toss those letters out the window, or dump them at a rest stop trashcan and no one, including Master, would ever be the wiser. 

The drive, despite a few trouble areas went well and with mouse hopped up on coffee we made excellent time. Master had made a reservation for us at our favorite pet friendly motel, and the children jumped almost at once in the pool, while the dog watched, ready to pounce into the water at the first sign of trouble. After a long swim, a meal of pizza from the local pizzeria, we settled to sleep and woke early to make the final push to the lake and Master. When the radio didn't work (we have some dead zones nothing can reach) we switched to the iPod, with "travel" music. Lots of songs about traveling or wherever home might be. The song (a guilty pleasure) "Leaving on a Jet Plane" came on and one of the kids remarked, "that's a song you aways sing when Dad's gone." Smiling, mouse explained that if you were leaving somewhere on jet plane it used to mean that you were going a great distance. Not all planes, back then, had jet engines and many were still propeller planes, like you see in old movies. Then since mouse was certain she was losing her audience, offered, "it's just because He's far away and He's missed."  

The car had barely come to stop when the little one had unbuckled herself from the carseat and bolted from the car, not bothering with the front door, but running around to the side and the rear deck, from still inside the car she could hear the child scream "Daddy" and imagined her leaping into His arms, like she always did each night when He'd get home from work. As mouse was opening the back of car, she saw Him coming around the corner with our little one on His shoulders. He put the child down and gathered mouse up in a long embrace that she just melted into.

In no time, mouse was surveying what needed to be done, extra things, but Master really had managed well without her. Instead she focused on Him. Things felt awkward but after that first day, it felt like we'd been there the whole time. That evening, mouse handed Master all the letters she wrote. He asked a few questions, which mouse truthfully answered, like had she actually touched the plug or just the box? Just the box, but that was close enough. Master had only offered permission for mouse to pack the box, not to randomly touch it because she was feeling lonely. He said there would be a punishment, but not anytime soon. Too many family members around with paper thin walls. Of course apologies were offered, tears and sniffles knowing she'd disappointed Him -- when later He turned her around and used her for strictly His own pleasure. He took out the box that contained the plugs, and chose one of the larger ones (the one that doesn't allow sitting) and inserted that into her bottom. It felt large and foreign inside her after being free from it for so long. He also attached some weights He brought to her nipple rings and had her on all fours most of the late evening in our bedroom with His legs across her back while He reread each of the letters she'd written Him. He did chuckle at a few her remarks.

When He finished, He told her to ready for bed. He didn't sound happy or pleased, but annoyed, which in turn made mouse feel even more guilty. He told her to wear a night gown, the pink one He had instructed she bring. Sure enough around 4am Master's sibling did poke their head into the room to wake Master for some early morning fishing. Quickly mouse jumped from the bed, put on the robe that went with the nightgown and made coffee for the men to take along. Mules would have completed her ensemble nicely and maybe some curlers in her hair.

After a light breakfast, Master taking mouse aside gave her a few instructions before He left. After tidying the kitchen and opening all the windows, mouse went to shower and enema, then dressed, first in her capri pants and a sweatshirt, because it was darn cold out still. By the time Master returned the windows were still open, with the curtains drawn, and mouse was dressed in a sundress, the plug back in place, and mouse was busy preparing the hamburger meat into patties for dinner.

We usually only eat a couple meals a day at the lake, breakfast and an early dinner, then if anyone feels peckish, they can help themselves to left-overs, a salad or some fruit. The rest of her time was spent cleaning, vacuuming, and yes more laundry. When Master returned, He instructed mouse to switch plugs, to the smaller one that doesn't protrude -- not that she had much opportunity to sit. He found some dust in a corner and added that to the punishment list to meted out in the future.

Over dinner, outside, mouse pondered how many demerits she'd already accrued since she arrived. Unfortunately, while her head was stuck on herself she missed something. It seemed every time she turned around, she was making a mistake, which added to her nervousness. Within a few more days she found her groove and her attentiveness improved greatly. Why was this so difficult?

The day after the fourth of July celebrations, the family due to depart in a day or so, took the kids to the movies for the afternoon. Master used that opportunity to punish mouse for everything. Actually, if truth be told, mouse begged for punishment. The belt was used for a long time. The first blows took her breath away from the pain and she struggled to keep count and after losing her place, led to the enviable restarting the whole punishment. By the time He finished, mouse was sobbing and quite the mess, yet her head was clear.

Moving about without showing any discomfort was difficult under watchful eyes. Not that anyone really noticed anything that couldn't be explained by a different bed. The post punishment period is the time mouse likes best, if she's honest. It harkens memories of childhood and first day of a new school year or the even the New Year, when you make all those promises that this will change, before you begin that gentle slide. Within a few days, the physical pain had greatly diminished but the marks remained, as a reminder.

Slowly our guests began to pack up and leave -- everyone wishing they could spend more time. A feeling we're well acquainted with. Master took them all to the farmers market. It's open daily during the summer months, although different vendors sometimes have their own schedules and just a few flower people are there nearly daily. It's strange because people know us there, they know our children. The guy at the honey stand always hands out honey sticks to the kids and often directs mouse different varieties of honey. That day Master's sister-in-law cleaned him out of beeswax candles.

For now, it's just us and life feels slower -- and that seems the best way to end this.  

Tuesday, June 18, 2019

All By Myself

Master was mulling over the latest predicament, because of the horrible weather over our winter the school district was faced with adding more days to the school year. Kids will be in school effectively until the end of June. That doesn't give us a lot of time to get the lake house ready for visitors, so Master was mentally going back and forth with it all. Finally, He settled on an odd choice. He will leave for the lake as scheduled. Saturday morning (remember Father's Day here was Sunday), He loaded up the car and started to drive. The idea, as planned months ago, was to beat the weekday traffic. Friday morning, mouse served Him breakfast in bed and gifts were handed with dinner. The rest of the evening He packed for the long drive and in the morning after a quick shower and a rather long fuck, He was on the road.

All last week, knowing He would be leaving mouse was busy preparing meals for Him, things He could just pop into the microwave oven. He said not to worry, He was perfectly capable of getting the house ready on His own. His siblings will begin arriving later next week and we'll be leaving very early on the last Saturday of June. He was actually looking forward to a few days to fish and relax. Also ahead of the trip, Master decided on some huge changes, after reading an environmental report on lakes, He has barred our family from bringing any plastics to the lake.

At home we do limit plastics, we use lots of glass containers for storing left-overs, we don't use plastic wraps or food storage bags, opting instead for reusable ones that can be fussy and old fashioned waxed paper for school lunches. At the lake, however, we have placed more on convenience. Food purchased in plastic throwaway containers, packages of hotdogs or hamburger wrapped in cellophane, and often we'd use paper plates with plastic knives and forks when serving a crowd. Master said no more to all of that. We replaced all the plastic cups with stainless steel tumblers.

Carefully He made a list of all the things we'll need for the summer (with mouse's help). We got some reusable bags that will hold up to 5 pounds of flour or sugar or whatever that mouse will fill before we leave and drive those down with the other things she's bringing along during her journey. No plastic water bottles will be allowed this year. Master said He'll install a water filter and we do have a reusable huge water jug that's like you'd see in a hotel lobby already at the lake house. Master said we might getting a second one for home or just bring it back and forth, but He feels it will be a better solution.

Phoning from the road Master made good time, His slave, wasn't doing nearly as well. After a week or more of focusing on His journey, mouse felt that cord that tethers her to Him, stretched out. Cleaning helped, cooking and doing all the usual things helped. As much as she'd like to pretend that it's just another trip, this is longer than usual. At most Master will be gone a few days -- four or five at the most. Now it's going to be two weeks before...

Can't think about that. Just need to keep pushing forward, making sure the items are checked off. Going through the clothing to make sure we don't bring too much. Before leaving Master had marked her body and after her enema she looked at those marks, running her fingers along them. Picking up her phone she sent Him a text message, "Thank you!"

Dealing with more than usual grumpy children, their own summer seemingly cut short. It's a rub, mouse can empathize with. Each morning last winter there was an excitement with the report that school had again been cancelled. Of course, we adults knew, nothing comes without a price or a penalty. Yet, mouse can't help to feel she's being punished for the weather, doubly so.

Eventually this too will pass, we will be on the road for the lake and hopefully there will be enough summer left to leave it all behind. Soon enough the rush to return home, resume schedules and replace the summer fun with back-to-school shopping will be upon us.

Friday, June 14, 2019


I'd gladly lose me to find You
I'd gladly give up all i had
To find you i'd surrender anything and be glad.

Master patted His slave's head as she pleasured Him with her mouth, behind her back her arms remained still as though bound. Emotions can be overwhelming and confusing at times, but all she felt was deep love and cried with her head in His lap.

"Thank you, thank you." the gushing slave repeated.

Every word was meant, not just in that moment but always. He seemed to appreciate it but thankfully He said little about it because if He had, mouse would have crumbled into a heap of gratitude. This wasn't for once about the past, recent or distant, but from what she truly feels for Him more often. At the foot of the bed, begging Him for permission to enter it. His bed, inside His room, surrounded by His things, all neatly organized and kept tidy by His property.

It felt shocking when the strap came down on her backside. Had she missed a command and cursed herself because she was again lost in her own thoughts. Efforts have been made to keep her mind more present, occasionally those best efforts fail. Several times the strap cracked against her flesh, then His head grabbed a fistful of hair. He lifted her up, and grabbed a nipple ring, twisting it around and taking pleasure in her more or less confused yelps of pain. His hands released her hair and breast, and she resumed the position with her head down, her arms outstretched. His hand on her lower back as his other hand rubbed her sex. Feeling His fingers against her flesh was electric, her breaths turned to pants as she struggled to not move. Just as the intense climax was nearly upon her, His hand went away and chuckled at her groans of frustration.

His chuckles continued as she climbed into bed beside Him, snuggling herself against His warm body. He produced a small length of rope, binding her hands quickly together and lashing them to the headboard. The whimpers of protest meant little. Rarely mouse needs to pee during the night, but that night it was all she could think about -- that and her still throbbing sex. After a few slaps to get her to quiet down she fell into a troubled sleep -- waking often throughout the night, mostly from worry that she would disturb Him.

When Master keeps her in that "wanting stage" she actually finds it easier to focus on Him and let her own thoughts go and feel more mentally centered. Sure she could sneak off, while He's at work or just into another part of the house and finish herself off, except He'd know it the moment He saw her and the larger part of her doesn't want to ever find out what the punishment for that might entail. Still, for the most part He doesn't usually care if orgasm happens or not. During use, if she does orgasm it's just a "happy accident" and nothing more. Sure, on occasion when we're "playing" He will purposely edge her to the brink, then tell her to not orgasm, or worded this way, "Sure you can cum, but if you do you will be punished for it slut." He will continue until she does have a toe curling orgasm and then punish her, which was the plan all along. It's not a real punishment but just part of the game he wants to play at the moment.

Just as dawn was breaking, Master untied her, allowing her some freedom to use the bathroom, prepare the enema and other routine things we do to begin each day. As mouse gazed at the marks left on her body she felt owned.

Tuesday, May 28, 2019

Us and Them

Out of the way
It's a busy day
I've got things on my mind

Reading fiction, even within the lifestyle that we live is a dodgy prospect, the women always seem to require forceful control or to conquered, the Men are always perfect and they usually always contain platitudes about safe words. The collar the woman wears is usually reserved for play, or worn proudly all the time (depending on the book). Master doesn't care collars; those outward displays of slavery or Ownership.

Still sometimes it makes you wonder about what you might be missing out on? Staring at the flashing cursor, mouse feels a deep need to share something but also hesitant. To really put those thoughts out there. That feeling you get internally knowing that you're thoroughly owned by another. While running errands the thought humiliates you -- that just hours or even minutes before, you gladly debased yourself before the one you call Master. It is like a collar that you cannot take off, your body marked by Him. Walking through the place you dwell, you feel the heat of being an outsider in your own town. You are marked. Owned. Possessed.

Eyes that fall on you for even moment, you refuse to meet their glance for fear they will learn of your secret. We don't live in a world where subservience is accepted (unless it's a man bending the knee to a woman). A simple google search will reveal that female submission is often heavily tied to religious fervor. A few news articles, speak of the ritual of being a godly helpmeet, even branching out into Christian Domestic Discipline (CDD). What floats their boat is fine, well and good, but there was always that itch that seemed just out of reach, except from Master.

Public sojourns are often humiliating for mouse, scantily clothed beneath a flimsy dress or skirt, a cardigan sweater keeping her erect nipples barely visible (let alone the nipple rings). The raincoat provides more coverage, but more often that also means less clothing underneath. Still, this was precisely what was needed. The idea of choice slowly stripped away. Like sanding a piece of old wood until it's smooth and eventually useful. The desire to give up control completely and the fear of not having any personal control felt confusing most of the time. The internal hum that this need was wrong worried mouse -- yet in those moments of letting the need to control go, completely, felt so right. Master knew it straight from the beginning.

Over the past couple years slowly we've been moving toward something unseen. At first even though mouse had begged for Him to be Master, He offered "outs". Like a get out of slavery free card or several of them. When she deeply displeased Him, especially when she knew she could be better but chosen the wrong path. He reminded her of choice and asked if anything had changed, before getting on with the punishment. More recently He's stopped asking. It wasn't obvious at first. His wording changed during the last punishment, it went from "do you understand" or "have you changed your mind," with the former being a real question and the latter, dripping with sarcasm, morphed into "You are fully aware."

This shift didn't cause angst but felt more comforting and right. 

Monday, May 13, 2019

If You Wake Up with the Sunrise

And all your dreams are still as new
And happiness is what you need so bad
Girl, the answer lies with you

Illness passed, but the cough lingered longer, then we got slammed with non-holiday holidays (St. Patrick's Day) and Master had to attend a conference so that left His slave feeling very adrift without His daily guidance. It's just not the same when He's away, yet somehow we muddle through it. Sure tasks are completed, meals prepared, clothing laundered, shopping accomplished but it feels rote, as though one is on autopilot until His return. Thankfully, the trip was short, and He returned exhausted from the travel. Three flights, He sardonically quipped that driving might have been faster.

While Master was away, the house went through its traditional spring/Passover cleaning rituals and He returned to a spotless home, even though we weren't hosting. It really just felt good to just give the whole home a good once over. Soon we had resettled into a comfortable routine, albeit a busy one, with mouse often waiting to be useful. During those times, she would occupy herself with lists or tidying, but nothing that hold her attention away from His needs. One evening He did call her to pleasure Him orally as He worked at His desk. Quickly mouse became lost in her mind as she attentively worshipped His cock.

During the day, either while Master travels or is just away at work, routine rules each day for mouse. The family home is cleaned, laundry is done (which is endless) and shopping, meals prepped each afternoon for the evening meal. Snacks prepared for after school to be brought along to activities or for at home. The plug each morning is inserted by Master after the enema. When He travels, while mouse is allowed to enema on her own, the plug is not inserted by her, unless He prefers it, which so far while Master has contemplated the idea -- He has yet to allow that.

After several days of going plug (and corset) free, the feeling when it is back feels so right to mouse and this calmness comes over her like a warm wave. The corset, tightly bound reminds her that she's owned and not free to just move about as she might like. While there is a profoundly different mindset that has slowly evolved over the course of our relationship, always problem free, it is not. Errors are sometimes made, corrections are still necessary and mouse strives to be more careful with her words or actions. Normally her quick mouth is most likely to bring her trouble, occasionally her inattention does as well. As Master will put it, distracted by shiny things, or lost in a thought, steps are missed. The idea of multitasking that everyone says is go great, is for the birds Master says. You cannot properly do 5 things at once, or even two, effectively; something always suffers.

It's already May and while there's plenty of year left, time seems to moving quickly. Don't blink you might miss it. Mother's Day happened and we accepted an invite to celebrate with some of Master's family, which turned out to be one of those expensive hotel brunches.

Back at home, mouse finally was allowed to kick off her shoes and get into the kitchen to prep dinner that evening for the family. A very light meal of chicken breasts with a pesto sauce and salad full of fresh veggies and fresh baked bread (the bread was slightly disappointing this time). The day ended just the way mouse wanted! 

Monday, March 4, 2019


Yes, mouse has the flu (confirmed by doctor) and after getting the flu shot last fall, so far Master has her quarantined and not allowing much around her. Missing the old man dog so much it hurts.