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Monday, January 27, 2020

Everything is Better


Master wants mouse to blog, to write about her slavery in a meaningful and authentic way. To practice mindfulness as she goes about her day, whether in His presence or not, to keep her thoughts present and focused on Him. It begins as each day, with morning service, the slave serves Master a light meal, coffee and pleasures Him orally if He wishes. If Master is pleased to use a different hole it is her pleasure to oblige, parting her legs, bending over, as He indicated. 

After Master departs for work, mouse's day truly begins. Donning the apron Master was kind to give her as a gift, mouse puts on the rubber gloves, and begins to wash up the morning dishes and pans. Master refuses the use of the dishwasher for now, to remind His slave how fortunate she is to have such devices at her disposal. The slave considers, as she washes the morning dishes, how grateful He still allows the use of the washing machine. Drying and putting away the dishes, pots, pans and coffee maker, mouse begins the next task of scrubbing the toilets, washing the floors and vacuuming the bedrooms. Starting a load of laundry mouse is reminded again how fortunate to have this luxury, especially after transferring them to the clothes dryer. It's a bit strange since mouse always found the task of folding and putting away the clean clothing to be loathsome task, it feels different now. Being reminded that these things are available to the slave, to ease the drudgery of cleaning, is a huge blessing for her and something she should be grateful for. 

Just the act of hand washing a few dishes taught mouse a valuable lesson, one otherwise she might not have otherwise so cleverly learned. Quickly, she sends Master a "good mid morning" text message, to inform Him that many of those pesky morning chores are nearly completed and to thank Him for the latest in a long line of lessons she's relearned. Promptly she finishes up the morning chores, washes her hands and fixes a quick lunch for herself, consisting of salad, a small sandwich and piece of fruit. 

The afternoon chores include more dusting and vacuuming then, beginning the dinner preparations. Another text message is sent to Master keeping Him informed of her progress as she moves through the day. Also a way to let Him know that she is doing work and not just loafing about, while He works doubly hard. When Master arrives, mouse is there to take His coat, hat if He's wearing one and briefcase. All are placed in the hallway closet, then as He sits in His favorite chair, mouse fetches Him a beverage (usually ice water or unsweetened ice tea) and removes His shoes. He usually smiles as mouse does this. 

Then she rises and hurries back to the kitchen, returning frequently to Him to make sure He's happy and has everything He would want. Sometimes He'll have a small snack, depending on the time He gets home and how long before dinnertime. Lately, He has been getting home earlier than He used to, so we're adjusting by eating earlier. Still, He will often have a small snack, which mouse brings to Him. A small plate of cheese, olives, almonds, maybe a pear (sliced). It's His time to decompress after a likely difficult day and not a time to be pestered a lot. 

Things are different and better now, Master doesn't want mouse to worry about doing 5 things for Him, instead focus only on Him, if there's time for extra things it's fine but keeping Him in her thoughts all the time should be more the standard. It's taken mouse a long time to completely understand how He likes things. Sure He could have just laid it all out and told mouse everything He always expects but He doesn't feel that's right. Master said He wanted mouse to realize this on her own and find that joy in her heart without being told that it should be there. 

Still there's a struggle to find any joy in scrubbing toilets, however, for mouse finding mindfulness is becoming easier for her. After so many months of struggling with life, suddenly the pieces seem to fit together and its blissful. Rediscovering the pleasure in service to Master has been truly a blessing and boon. 

Friday, January 17, 2020

Shadows Grow so Long


...before my eyes
And they're moving across the page
Suddenly the day turns into night
Far away from the city...

Master called in the afternoon and explained that He wouldn't be home until the early morning hours, He had been traveling for work and missed a connection. Trying to hide the obvious disappointment mouse tried to sound bright on the phone. We spoke for a few more precious minutes before hanging up. The tears felt stupid. Really it wasn't that bad. He hadn't even been gone very long and yet, each mile between us felt painful.

It was only supposed to be a day trip and it turned into a day and half trip. He finally made it home around 4am, tired but not as exhausted as mouse thought He'd be. Master looked at His slave and asked if she slept at all? Pouring another cup of coffee, mouse admitted no. Our bed was unrumpled, she was still dressed in the clothes she'd worn in anticipation for His return. Sure, she'd nodded off a little on the sofa...

Changing the subject for a moment, mouse asked if Master were hungry and He said yes, so she quickly whipped up some breakfast for Him. Then she knelt at His feet and removed His shoes for Him. He sat at the breakfast table and mouse slid under it, carefully unbuckled His belt, His pant button and unzipped His trousers. His cock began to spring to life as she carefully licked and became lost in its smell. The smell of Him as He lifted Himself to move His pants down further, mouse began actively worshipping Him. At the same time, she unbuttoned her blouse and lifted her skirt up over her ass *as is expected by Him* Master's cock grew very stiff as she licked and sucked at His balls, and her tongue stroked the whole length and ignored the pain when she banged her head on the bottom of the table.

"Enough slave."

Pouting mouse gave it a final kiss and crawled out from under the table.

He had nearly finished everything on His plate, and placed the plate on the floor and pointed to it.

For a very brief moment, mouse stared up at Him.

"Clean the plate." He said simply.

With burning cheeks mouse lowered herself to lick the remaining bit of yolk and ate the last bit of toast, while trying to keep her hair out of her mouth and off the plate.

He gave her head a pat, praising her like an animal, "Good mouse."

Then He stood, fixed His pants, and picked the plate off the floor, putting it into the sink. Then He reached into a drawer and pulled out the wooden spoon. He tapped each tit and then her ass with it, making her want to yelp in shock. Then He tossed it into the sink.

Master was not happy that His slave had not slept. He asked if she remembered the last thing He had said to her before getting off the phone?

"That You wouldn't be home until early tomorrow morning and mouse shouldn't wait up for You."

Silence followed.

Lowering her head to the floor, and groveling (she was going to write 'almost' but there was no almost about this) at His feet mouse begged His forgiveness.

Master didn't ask why she didn't sleep. He asked if she was in pain, sick, was something wrong, and everything else He could think as a legitimate reason for disobeying Him. The replies were all no. He pulled her hair and lifted her head to look at Him. Did His authority matter? Tears were now streaming down her cheeks, as she of course. Master shook His head.

That couldn't be true, if it were, she would have went to bed as He instructed. Even if sleep eluded her, it would have been far better than just ignoring His wishes and doing what she wanted.

He knows her far too well. Master knew exactly what happened, mouse had began watching something on TV, stayed up too late and figured what was the point? Was He close?

Scarily, Master was exactly right.



Tuesday, January 7, 2020

Keep Up"



Master decided to take mouse to lunch one winter day, and had mouse dress very warmly for the occasion. The wool pencil skirt that hobbles mouse a little, so Master added a thin string to bind mouse's knees together to further restrict her movements after she came downstairs. Then He had her wear the boots, with the high heel and made mouse walk about the room. Master smiled saying she was walking like Morticia Addams. He helped her on with her coat and escorted her to His SUV, opened the door and watched with a look of complete enchantment on His face, as mouse struggled to figure out how to get inside.

The determined mouse hopped and gyrated herself trying to propel herself upward finally using her arms hopped, twisted and lifted herself up onto the seat of the vehicle. By this time Master was chuckling as He closed her door and walked around. Sliding behind the wheel He said He would have gladly given mouse a boost. Now that remark left mouse feeling not bad, but more embarrassed that she hadn't thought to ask for Master's help.

He drove to a favorite place of His and parked. Watching Master parallel park is always a pleasure, as He usually gets it on the first try. Then He walked around the car, opened the door and helped mouse to the street. Master is tall with long legs, and mouse is restrained, effectively hobbled from walking very fast. It took five her tiny steps to equal one half of His normal strides. He paused, waited for mouse to catch up to Him a few times before saying. "Keep up!" and swears she saw Him smile as He turned away from her.

At the restaurant, we were seated, Master held the chair for mouse, as He usually does. There was an older man seated with His wife at a nearby table who gave Him a slight nod of approval. Then He began looking over the menu and quickly settled on lunch. A sandwich and salad for mouse and a different sandwich with salad for Himself. He told mouse she wouldn't be disappointed and she wasn't. He had said for her to eat all the salad, which was large enough and but the sandwich was amazing and somehow managed to stuff half into her tummy.

He asked for a box for the other half, paid the check and we slowly made our way out the door. Being downtown is a rare thing for mouse so we walked around a little, before He lifted mouse up onto a retaining wall of sorts, and reached under her dress and pulled the string binding her knees. Really mouse could not thank Him enough for that. The skirt still slowed mouse down but nearly as bad now. We went into a bookshop and had a short look around, Master found what He was looking for and purchased that, and saw mouse looking at a film history book, which He also offered to buy but mouse slid the book back onto the shelf and said it wasn't for her.

We looked around a little more, mouse looking at various cookbooks, which always makes Him chuckle because she rarely follows a recipe. It's just to get ideas, of course she has the internet for that and feels a cookbook that just takes up space is a bit useless. When did that happen? Back at the car mouse did ask for a little help, she didn't want to raise her skirt too high to get in, so He did give her a gentle boost up and kissed her.

As we drove out of the downtown area mouse circled back mentally to the idea of the cookbook being more obsolete and thought how different everything was today. Are we too dependent on on the  internet? Back at home, mouse looked through many of the old cookbooks she already has and began sorting them. Some only had one or two recipes in the whole book she ever made. Were these recipes also online? Yes they were. When was the last time she opened a cookbook and actually used it to cook something?

How does any of this relate to her slavery?

It probably doesn't, honestly, and yet there is a heavy suspicion it does correlate but mouse lacks the ability to see it in a clear way that she can express.  Master defines her slavery and gives her purpose and agency to be who she is underneath the surface, what she is at her very core. The slave that thrives under His control, has been disquieted lately about that very slavery.

Like the volumes of cookbooks she owns and rarely looks at, yet somehow refuses to part with, maybe the idea of her slavery is similar? An idea that she simply refuses to let go of?

When Master read this post, He zeroed in on the "disquieted" part.  He only wished to know why. The why was hard to get out. Words flew from her head and she felt emptied. Finally after a long time, mouse said simply, "What if I'm wrong?"

A first person sentence, regardless of length is always taken serious from Him. It's like when Master begins a sentence with "Honey" usually means He's frustrated or concerned that she's not getting something she should be understanding. Master closed His laptop, took His glasses off and put everything aside, pulled mouse into His arms and listened as she struggled to explain how different she feels.  Since the hospital, and Master decided to stop using mouse in certain ways, it's been a struggle to her. Maybe it was the fear of physical punishment that helped her toe the line more? Now that's been removed and mouse is finding it difficult.

"Is your slavery to me tied intrinsically to physical pain?"

It was a very fair question Master asked and mouse truthfully answered she was unsure, part of her did want to scream yes it was, and part felt it wasn't. Maybe the part that felt it wasn't, just wanted to believe that? To just give the right answer He wanted to hear, instead of the truthful one.

He said it's not coming back, the physical punishment in a way that leaves behind a mark on her body. He has reminded her that He isn't opposed to a quick slap to her face or ass to get her attention. Since the hospital He has had His struggles that He admitted to mouse. He's been worrying about her a lot, and didn't want to push her too hard. Now Master wanted to know if she was asking for a bigger push from Him?

The yes flew from her mouth before her brain could weigh it.

He nodded, removed His arms from around mouse, put His glasses back on, opened His laptop and resumed working. Then, when mouse didn't move, and completely bewildered by His response. Then He glanced up and asked, if she didn't have something she needed to do?

Ah the cookbooks, yes, she did have a task, after asking Him if there was anything else He needed, and Him just shaking His head no, she went back to work and began culling the cookbooks.

When she glanced back at Him, she saw Him smile.


Wednesday, January 1, 2020

Public Play or Just Humiliation? New Year's Eve Shenanigans


At precisely midnight magic happens, we slip or slide into a new year. This time a new decade, a new roaring twenties? Time will tell. A day earlier went to a party on the eve of New Years Eve, it was an open house, where you show up, make sure the host or hostess sees you and you're free to leave whenever you want. At one point, someone Master knows asked Him "what were most grateful for in 2019?" 

There's too much it's a big question requiring far more than He could express, instead He simply said that He was most thankful that His wife was healthy. The whole time we were there He never once took His eyes off mouse, the reason she knows this was because her eyes were trained on Him and she was certain everyone could see our love for each other brimming over.

For the real New Year's Eve, we had a small group to our home, some dear friends that consisted of mostly couples. For some reason we decided that we'd play a game. Monopoly, which Master will always claim that mouse somehow cheats at because she rarely loses. The very nice thing about Monopoly is that you can play with as many people as you wish, the bank can always make more money, and it's actually more competitive with more people because you can more easily pounce and force others out of the game but at the same time, it can also lead to a very long game.

So we began playing. after an hour or some players did give up and sold their holdings to others who could afford them. The second hour, time was flying passed, Master decided to sweeten the pot a little and offered mouse a wager. At this point, four of us remained in the game and He suggested that if He beat mouse (either by her giving up before Him or losing to Him), she would be His footstool for the evening. Everyone cheered at the idea and if mouse won? He would be her footstool. The women, watching the action encouraged mouse to take that bet. Two had been forced out earlier by the "greedy males" and wanted a bit of fun revenge.

Now, at this point in the game mouse was ahead, but as in real life things can turn, but feeling a bit over-confident mouse took the wager, to the cheers of all. Shit just got real.  Master got sent to "jail" to mouse's laughter and patiently waited for His term to end, as mouse bounced around the board landing on all His properties and the Free Parking space which we loaded with cash from community chest and chance spots. That's how we play.

Then, the dice began to turn against her, she landed on several properties that He acquired when He forced out a competitor, er fellow player and had put up houses and hotels on them. Still swimming though she carried on until someone else landed on something of His and Master acquired the fourth RailRoad in lieu of rent. We were neck and neck with mouse maybe slightly ahead but not by much.

Then she pulled a "go to jail" card from the Chance pile and had no get out of jail card. He offered her an out, since several hours of game play probably remained in our future, He said if mouse threw an even number the bet would be cancelled but if she threw an odd number, then mouse would declare defeat and pay the penalty.

At this point, mouse is trying to calculate and let's try to remember math is not her strong suit. He would not make this offer to her unless He had already done the math, and judging from the properties He owned on the board, He was ahead. Plus He had the four Railroads and the Utilities, so the board was definitely weighted in His favor, but she was confident she had more cash. If He was ahead it was very close. We had been playing now for several hours already and mouse took the amended bet and rolled the dice.

Eleven.

Oh that hurt.

Everyone laughed and cheered Master's victory. It was well played. Moving with a spring in His step, Master sat on His chair and smiled as mouse knelt down and felt the familiar weight of His legs on her back. It was embarrassing. Our guests men and women alike laughed at mouse's humiliation and then as Master dared to push the envelope out even further by telling her to call Him Master, when she asked how long she'd be doing this. Several men high five'd Him over that one.

The next thought made her blush even harder than before when she thought about how many times she'd already done this. By eleven pm the penalty was over and mouse hurried or scurried around to get the champagne for midnight and glasses, popping the last of hors d'oevres into the oven. Just before Midnight the bottle was popped and glasses filled and toasted a brand new year and sealed with that with a kiss.


Thursday, December 19, 2019

When You Said Yesterday...

...That it's nearly Christmas
What did I want and I thought
Just love me, love me, love me
That's what I want for Christmas

When I walk through a room, let them see you need me
Walk through a room, let them
See you love me, love me, love me
That's what I want for Christmas

Anyone can wish for all the trinkets in the window
Some can even buy the things they see
But the present that I want you'll never find in any window
Bring me love and bring it just for me

When you come home at night
Take me in your arms and hold me
And kiss me and say you love me, love me, love me
That's what I want for Christmas

Hold me, kiss me
That's what I want for Christmas

A whole song...Master asked mouse that very question. Oh, there's a song for that sung by Nancy Wilson.

"Ok mouse lay it on me, " He said and mouse quickly found it on YouTube.

He listened to it and smiled. He's been doing that a lot more lately, sometimes when she cooks if the radio isn't blaring she'll hum and very recently He'll ask about that too. Suddenly she felt naked. Like having her clothing stripped away from her. While of course mouse shouldn't have secrets from Master and the music was never a secret, it was still something He didn't ask many questions about.

Now, He does and it feels like she's revealing parts of her she didn't before. The parts that were more private, the thoughts or the way she thinks.

It's just Him taking an interest in something that is important to mouse, something He never understood before but accepted as quirky as His slave can be. To mouse there is probably a song for everything and ever moment of her life. Not sure many people carry it that far. On her iPod there's a list of songs that remind her of Master, and He looked through that list, listened and even searched out the lyrics so He could understand them better. He didn't say a lot about it at first. Later He did say He found it touching. At first it felt invasive almost His digging through her "moody" lists of music, like being just stripped bare and exposed. It's an uncomfortable layer to her slavery. On a philosophical level she understood that but seeing it in practice was a bit jarring, since a slave isn't supposed to have secrets from her Owner.

Yet, are the things He never cared to know about or understand really secrets? He could have asked at any moment during our relationship and mouse grew used to Him not asking.

Years ago, someone mentioned to Him that He should pay attention more to the music mouse would listen to because it truly reflected her emotional state. At the time, He rather dismissed it. Music is something to listen to and enjoy, but isn't that personal, He always felt. Now, like a huge tapestry, He's seeing the all the colors, the shades, the contrasts and hues and it was as though a light was shined on mouse.

Yet, it's also a bit of relief that she can't really hide from Him anymore, although it took probably far too long to understand that.

Slowly mouse is feeling more like mouse again. Better living through chemistry, she guesses.

In other news the plug is back, the corset isn't and might never be used again. Nipple rings are gone too.

The plug being back is significant, it's not the one that didn't allow for sitting, but a smaller one that just gives that slight full feeling and is comforting to mouse. So far Master is keeping to the shorter hours and seems to enjoy this and honestly so is mouse. He has cautioned that next year things will be picking up again for Him but He said He's going to try much harder to not go back to the way things were before.

So, she never really answered His question about what she wanted for Christmas, and yet going back to the beginning she did completely. Only Him. His love.

Totally not the answer Master wanted.

There's a song for that too....

Happy Holidays From Omega and mouse to everyone!


Monday, November 18, 2019

Watching the Wheels Go Round and Round

I really love to watch them roll,
No longer riding on the merry-go-round,
I just had to let it go

Everything is different, in many ways better but so different. Master is kind to mouse and trying to be patient with her. He's careful to not raise His voice often because He knows now how it bothers her. He asks frequently about how she feels and expects honest answers.

Master had spoken to mouse's doctor. It did not upset her. More tests were ordered and a referral to another doctor, which led to another referral. It was stressful for mouse. Master was not very worried. They concluded after everything that mouse is more fragile and will possibly remain that way. Well, they used a lot more words but that's the end of it. It might improve, get worse, but is likely to just remain the same. Lots of reasons but few real answers. 

Master does not consider mouse a burden or broken and has forbidden mouse from thinking that (if only it were that simple). They prescribed an antidepressant, which He dutifully filled and made sure mouse takes. It's helped a little, but there are things that mouse cannot handle well. Like stressful situations or people. Master keeps things calm and mouse focused on serving and pleasing Him. When mouse told Him that she wanted Him to be Him and to control mouse, she knew exactly what she was asking for. What she truly needs is Him to be Master, because she can't manage herself.

It's not about clothing, wearing a plug or corset, it's about everything. Who mouse can speak to or hang out with, books she's allowed to read, things mouse is not allowed to read or even know about. There's been a few times Master has corrected mouse. A quick slap to the face gets her attention and then He gives her a choice, behave the way He expects or continue to act childish and she'll be treated that way. He most wants her words. To tell Him how she's feeling, if she's feeling edgy or nervous or sad, or happy He wants to know from her and not see her slamming a pot on the stove because she's annoyed. All this reminds her that she's not the one in control. Master is.

At first mouse was a little miffed when she read His blog post, but after reading it through a couple times she realized a few things, and the most important is that Master loves her and really does worry about her. Now, she wasn't miffed about anything He wrote about His siblings but it was more about the things He wrote about mouse's distant past that she doesn't speak about. Ever.

Watched a movie recently about some poor guy, incredibly happy in His life, and got hit by a car or something and lost His memory. Of course at the end He gets it back. It was an old movie from like the 40s. Still mouse wondered about amnesia and how great that would be to just have no memories at all. Of course with her luck, she'd get amnesia and forget Master and remember everything she'd rather forget. We'll just scratch, hit herself with a huge mallet, off her list. You know, thats how they did it in cartoons, one hit took all memory away and a second hit restored it.

Master has been telling mouse to focus on Him, especially now, while we wait for the antidepressants  to work, because the littlest thing unsettles her and the biggest, terrible things make her feel hopeless. When He sees her rattled or learns of something He knows will, He will hold her and give her little things to do. Keeping her mind off what's going on and redirecting her focus back onto Him, where it belongs. If He's not at Home, He'll send text messages. He must keep an active list of things to make her do.

Friday He came home in a wonderful mood. He had gone to His therapy appointment and then to a NA meeting and mouse was very proud of Him. It brightened her day just to see Him so happy. 

Sunday, November 10, 2019

Family

This is a lengthy missive from me that I apologize for in advance.  I have learned much the past few days that I felt compelled to share, since it is significant and part of our journey together. I have been exceptionally concerned about Mouse of late. The crying jags, the sobbing were all quite unlike her, when I would ask, she would dismiss it as nothing, a song, a film, her age.

The doctors did warn me that Mouse could suffer some depression following her time in hospital,  this was not uncommon, and if it became worrisome, we could get medications for her. I had already placed that call to her doctor, unbeknownst to her.

Then I learned that my own siblings were manipulating (my brother used the term "gaslight") my lady. Filling her head with nonsense. She is always my first concern, I did not reveal my rage to her, just requested that she have a rest and leave it to me. Since she divulged to me what was in fact going on, she has not shed but a few tears. The weight she felt was immense on her, far too great a burden for her delicate condition. Again, I would be remiss if I did not express my disappointment that she felt she could not share this with me when it began. She said she did not know what to say partly due of my "history"with drug abuse, and not understanding my siblings true intent until that day I arrived home very early. I completely misunderstood Mouse's intent. She has assured me that she does trust me completely and I believe this to be true.

I have dealt with my siblings. They were well aware of my lady's vulnerable state, they had learned this from me. Three of them launched a multileveled attack on her. Filling her head with nonsense using the religion and a family angle as a crux. I believe they were quite self-assured that she would not reveal any of this to me but would rather simply leave our marriage. This nearly happened had I not returned home early.

I can surmise, they were not getting the result, so my sister dragged our late mother into it. Realizing that would hurt mouse. My mother adored mouse and did not care in the least that mouse was not a member of the "tribe." She lived with us on and off after our father passed. My sister would often bristle at our mother's closeness to my family. Jewish families can be cliquish and feel that Jews are best marrying other Jews, they can also be highly skeptical of people who convert to Judaism for a myriad of reasons that I will go into. I was never overtly concerned with my religion. My sister wears her wig, two of my male siblings are never seen without their kippah (yarmulke).

My mother believed Mouse was my "beshert". A word she would call my dad that means roughly destiny or sometimes soulmate in Yiddish. My mother also said to me more than once that I "should marry that girl," because I was different around Mouse than I ever was with any other female my mother had witnessed me with. I assumed it was the fact, I never brought many of the women around, few were what I considered acceptable to meet family. Over a twenty or so year period my mother met three women I was involved with and one I was not involved with directly. She never liked the three I had "relationships" with. The other woman was Mouse.

I should probably account for how that first meeting came about. Mouse came to my office, she had been doing some work for me and discovered the meeting scheduled for the next week was cancelled, which was very rare. After discussing the business, the topic came up about why the meeting was cancelled and I explained that I was going to my parents home for Passover (Pesach) Seder. The former Catholic girl had no clue what that was, so I explained it a little and she seemed fascinated by it. She thought I was going back east, and explained no that my parents had relocated to be closer to one of my brothers who had recently married.

Since she seemed keen to go I found myself asking her, couching the statement "If I spoke to alpha, and he agreed, would you like to go along with me?" Her eyes lit up and said sure. I nodded, I might have smiled, and went to him. He agreed, somewhat reluctantly. Then I called my mother who readily said I could bring along whomever I wished. I explained she was a non-Jew and my mother said she would take care of it. I made arrangements with the travel department, who also handled personal travel arrangements, and they got back to me with a new flight itinerary. I enjoyed that time with her immensely, having her away from the office and him. I learned a few things about her, more than we dated. I always enjoyed her whimsical attitude.

At the hotel, I noted that he had heavily marked her, probably to remind me that she was on loan. Some of those marks had to hurt, and it actually bothered me. I had marked my slaves in a similar fashion before I had left for airport, yet seeing Mouse marked somewhat unsettled me, still I went about my business of fucking her, many times. My siblings were polite and our mother made that comment about marrying her. She was not mine to marry but I simply said we are just good friends and tried to leave it at that.

At no time did my mother ever use the term "shiksa" in reference to mouse or any non-jewish female either my siblings or myself were remotely acquainted with. The reason was simple, our father was "sheygetz" the, often lessor used male version of shiksa, who later did convert but that conversion was held with some regard but also suspicion. To be very clear both are, regardless of what popular culture might try to tell you, both are extremely offensive terms. Shiksa translated means abomination or loathsome and sheygetz, loosely translates into repulsive. These terms are used by Jewish people to denigrate the individual who has the misfortune of falling in love and sometimes marrying a Jew. Interfaith marriages are frowned upon. I do not believe there is an Orthodox, Conservative or Reform Temple that would consider performing one. I could be wrong about that. Most who do engage in what is known as "interfaith" marriages are probably most like myself, the cultural Jew, who are not very serious about the religious practice.

I explained to my siblings the very day I learned of this that if my lady and our marriage were not accepted, they were no longer welcomed in my home (not that they would be visiting, since my home is no longer considered Kosher to them). I have no issue with severing ties completely with them. I went twenty years with only scant contact with any of them. It probably bothered our mother more than any of us but when she was dying, I decided to honor her and become closer to all my siblings and remained so, again to honor her memory after she passed. We are finished. I do not wish to see them or hear from them ever again.

I spoke to the one sibling who was not partied to that mess, and said much the same to him as well. He assured me that he truly loves Mouse and considers her a sister. He also was not surprised when I told him what they had done to Mouse. He has often joked about their zealotry. He had a few choice words of his own, none I could disagree with. I am also contemplating removing our daughter from the school she attends, since my sister's children also go there. Mouse has since asked me to hold off on that, since our daughter enjoys the school.

With that settled I read again the journal post and certain phrases jumped out at me. These made me consider how little I knew of my lady's childhood.

Years ago, I had the great misfortune of meeting Mouse's grandmother, who "Alpha" once described to me as "a hateful, bitter and vitriolic woman." He had no idea how Mouse was possibly related to this person. My thoughts were exactly the same as we left the house. From the time that Mouse and I had rekindled our friendship and later began a romance, which led to marriage, she never failed to call the grandmother weekly or daily as she became more ill. She always sent cards and notes, and to my knowledge never forgot the old woman's birthday. Nothing Mouse could ever do was "good enough" for the grandmother.

When the woman passed away, Mouse paid for the funeral, even after learning that the woman left all her money to various other relatives (none who she knew and never met) and her church. Regardless of this, Mouse and I ventured to the city and I watched as Mouse truly entered a den of lions.

From the pulpit the scant few that bothered to attend and were not there for the 'funeral of the week' spoke lovingly about the grandmother and insulted Mouse at the same time, using words such as 'ungrateful' and 'heartless'. One said, they were pleased the money went to the church because the grand-daughter deserved nothing.

She sat in the back beside me, her back straight and head held high. After that shameful "service" we traveled the short distance to the cemetery for the second part. The minister, had the audacity to question Mouse directly about her relationship with her grandmother. Mouse simply thanked the minister and handed over the check and said nothing as we walked back to the car. I could not get out of there fast enough. When I yelled about the shameful display from this so-called family, mouse touched my leg, and said nothing.

This particular area was nothing but miles and miles of cemeteries. One after another, and there were several florists, when mouse suddenly asked to stop. I obliged although uncertain why and Mouse got out and bought a small bouquet of flowers, the woman working asked if they were for a wall, grave or something else, mouse indicated a wall, and picked out the flowers. Back in the car she directed me to an area of mausoleums and I chuckled softly when Mouse called it the "marble orchard". Then she said to stop and she took the flowers and got out. She went to this shed area nearby and got a cup for the flowers, and arranged then she went to a spot where a woman was interred. Silently Mouse knelt before it and was quiet for a few minutes and explained softly, that this was her "Nonna"  and  she taught Mouse everything she needed to know about life.

I was suddenly grateful that she had someone in her life and then I studied the birth and death dates, the woman was around 90 when she passed and Mouse could not have been more than 5 at that time. I did not know at the time, who she was exactly but whoever she was, my lady found her very important.

There have been hundreds of times that I wanted to ask about her childhood the very few times I did, she was deft at evading those questions. She would speak freely about concerts or parties she attended, but she seemed awfully young to be so independent. At ten she saw Led Zeppelin across the bay in Oakland and all the times she saw The Grateful Dead. There was so many bands she had seen, from Jethro Tull to Steely Dan. I figured location, San Francisco. If I wanted to see a concert, I would have to venture to NYC the Garden usually. Everything she spoke of occurred outside the home, there was never talk of the more "normal" holidays, gatherings, birthday celebrations.

On a lark one year I found a Grateful Dead DVD, of a performance they gave in 1978 on New Years Eve, wrapped it up and presented it for her birthday. I did not think much of it, except she would enjoy it. She hugged me tightly and talked about the concert, as I sat listening I realized she knew details that weren't included in the concert film. We were watching and she suddenly grabbed the remote, and reversed it, paused it, and moved slowly and pointed to the TV saying "there's me!"

There's this very young, too young girl sitting in the crowd, swaying softly to the music (she looked rather high, if you catch the meaning) and I realized as I looked that it was mouse. I was rather flabbergasted as I learned that the concert went on all night. At 12 she had stayed out all night on New Years Eve. I asked if she were high, and she said probably, but was not sure if that was the concert she was "dosed" or not. Her parents did not even know she was out of the house (she shared that when I asked). Alpha once said that she had lived an entire adult lifetime before she was 18. The "dosed" remark troubled me, since she was so young, also I found that to be highly dangerous. She had shared once that she learned to roll marijuana when she was 8 years old. Next month our daughter will be the same age and that was a chilling perspective for me.

How could this be? When I was in high school I would sometimes go out, and my parents always waited up for any of us. We rarely stayed out too terribly late, maybe 1 or 2 am at the utmost. They always needed to know where we were going. There were always subtle questions when we got home. She was far younger.

For clarity, mouse left drugs behind before I first met her, I had once offered her a line, and she refused saying she did enough of that in her "partying days".Years later, I did ask if she had been to rehab and she said no; she became bored with the crowd, they were going no where and she wanted a bit more. Since she was not already dead, she may as well figure out what to do with her life. She had that sorted out by the time she was a senior in high school. Mouse rarely consumes alcohol and never does anything, except for an equally rare joint that her and Lucy might share. When it became "legal" in our state, they both could not wait to go to dispensary. They both said with some measure of irony it was more fun when it was illegal.

Then I read her journal entry where she described how certain buttons were pushed on her, the parts about family. She could never understand family because she never had one. That came from mouse, not their words, her words.

We were in bed, and comfortable, relaxed. We had just made love and as I held her I asked her to please tell me about her childhood.

She replied rather confidently that I didn't want to know about that and she added "that people always think they want to know stuff like that. But what they really want is to hear a nice lie and not the truth."

I repeated it for her to please tell me.

I am glad she was not facing me as I listened to horror that was her childhood and my eyes became damp, taking it all in, the Readers Digest Condensed Version of all she suffered. I did learn that "Nonna" was a neighbor, who left her front door unlocked so in case mouse needed a safe place to land when "home" became too intense.

That is a nice thing for someone to do, and if I were unaware that the women died when mouse was only 5, I certainly would have thought that was wonderful.

I understood now that a child of five needed a safe place to hide because the adults around her were such dreadful failures. People (I cannot speak of them as parents) planned to wait until she was at least 13 before they completely traded the final vestige of her virtue for drugs or drug money.

It was no wonder she was free to come and go as she pleased and preferred to not be home. The fact no one phoned the police is beyond me. There was no home. There was a rented house that held what little clothing they allowed her to have and bed to sleep if she dared. Over the years I have known mouse, she has spoken of home rather as a concept than a place, I now thoroughly understood why this was.

My mother could be in a room with hundred people and pick out which ones had been through what she went through. She said it was how they carried themselves and maybe behaved, she knew they had lived through the holocaust and was rarely wrong. She had told me once she had the same feeling about mouse from the moment they first met, but mouse was far too young. My mother could never really sort it out, if mouse was just highly empathetic to the suffering or had herself suffered incredibly. I now understood this.

Around three am I kissed mouse's cheek and got out of bed, making certain she was covered up and warm. I went downstairs to my study and sat reflecting on all  I had learned. She was apt; I did not want to know this, a lie would have been preferable. I could not pretend to un-know anything I had learned over the course of an hour. Had she ever told a therapist about this? How could she just bury it?

My mother, often said that survivors carried the trauma with them but it did not often interfere with their willingness to live (this was not true of all, but many my mother encountered). My dad would speak of the nightmares my mother would have. She also had moments when we were young. My dad was there to remind us that it was ok. We were safe. The nazis were not coming. Mouse had to have similar moments while she was still a child.

My next thought chilled me, something my mother had said years ago, the reason she rarely spoke of it, people would ask, and listen to what she had gone through, but walked away with a sense of near disbelief. This was as late as the early 80s. It was too horrific for people to process. They would engage in a bit of self protection, and tell themselves my mother had to be exaggerating, it could not have been that bad. These are not people who deny the holocaust; those are a different bunch, but regular people living in post-war England and later post-war America.

The American culture largely ignored it. It was not until film tried to show it in a digestible way that people became interested. My mother was tattooed, if she wore short sleeves a person noticing it, might ask about it. They would bring up a movie they had seen and would ask if was really like that. My mother's reply was only that it was far worse than anything Hollywood could show. My mother, to her credit, never watched any films about that, except for Schindlers List and she had tears in her eyes throughout the viewing. A bit of survivor guilt had surfaced. She had survived and her entire family was wiped out, save for one distant cousin. She wondered if they had a "Schindler" in their life, would more have made it?

Perhaps that did somewhat explain why mouse never spoke of it, if she outlined the whole abuse from her very earliest memories, no one would believe it, not in 1970s California. I also, do not mean to imply that the abuse mouse suffered was in any way similar or to diminish the Holocaust my mother lived through, however there are parallels of ritualistic abuse, which include, physical, emotional and sexual, I cannot readily dismiss. My mother had been correct all along about her.

I was glad, no elated they were dead, the whole lot of them. She is well-adjusted despite her life, which she has struggled to make sense of. The drugs she experimented with were a way for her "to better understand what could be more important than your kid." She had been on her own from the very day she graduated high school, when her grandmother tossed her out on the street when she returned from the ceremony her own grandmother did not bother to attend.

I sense her relationship with Alpha was part of that, and perhaps why it became so damaging for her psychologically? Maybe her ultimate relationship with me?

Life has truly taught this woman to not really expect anything from it. Perhaps that is why she sheds tears after we make love? She had resolved long ago to just accept that some people "get the Leave it to Beaver life and others aren't so lucky." Regardless of anything she is an amazing mother to our children. She has never once raised a hand to them, and has always made sure that they felt safe in our home and incredibly loved.

I was lost in these thoughts, observing the clock in the entry chiming the passing hours, when I saw my lady come into the study. I smiled at her and watched as she knelt before me and asked if I was ok.

I decided to shift gears, staying away her childhood, and I told that I had a few things to say to her.

The first thing was that while she was in hospital I called the "pets" and told them it was over. Then I asked if she had any questions about that and she asked if I really wanted this and I told her yes. I was thoroughly, committed to her and she was my only woman from now on. She whispered a thank you.

The second was half confession and question for her. I asked if she recalled years ago when I asked if she was interested in pursuing a Master/slave dynamic with me and she had told me yes. What I had not mentioned was at that time, I would have accepted vanilla. I wanted her that badly. I was willing to turn my back on my greatest desires to be with her. Yes, I admitted if she was not interested in that Master/slave union, and truly wanted vanilla, I had hoped that would change, but I would not push for that. She did smile.

Now, I was asking what she wanted.

I told her to forget what she thought I wanted, forget me all together. I asked what she really wanted. She has said time again that she would become whatever I wanted her to be. What did she want to be?

"I need to know what you want. What do you want to be? What do you want most for us?"

She said after a few minutes thinking that she really most wanted to be my slave. She said she needed me, to guide, direct and command her always. She needed to be corrected when she did something wrong. She admitted that she liked it when I was a bit indifferent to her, it heightened her awareness and increased her submission. She needed me to be me.

I would be a liar if I said I was not relieved and pleased with her response. I had been sensing for a while that we were on shaky ground where that was concerned. If there is not trust the dynamic falls apart.

Now I had rules that went a bit beyond "Obey" and beyond the expectations that I required for her. I do expect her to follow those without question and to trust me always.

I told her then that I believed that her staying with me if I ever used drugs again, was a naive decision. I would have shattered her trust and she was to take the children, leave me and not think twice nor even look back. She was to call Pete because he would know how to protect her. I need to believe she would do this. I need to trust that she would do this. Now, if I did reenter rehab and take steps to ensure I remain clean, through counseling we might be able to restore our relationship. I simply needed her to understand that this was serious for us and especially to me.

Once I had her word that she would do this, she did begin to cry.

I continued, unmoved for once by her tears, but offered a  pledge that I would far rather chew glass than ever betray her trust or misuse my position over her as her Master (or as a husband) in that particular way. Now that I knew exactly how her parents had died, I cannot go back on my word to her. Staying clean was important to me before and now it is doubly so for her, myself and our family. I have not used in a decade now, I have no intention of ever using again.

I also needed assurances that even if I were wrong, or made a mistake (which did not involve drug abuse), I needed her to just obey me always. If I say to Mouse, 'you stay at the lake,  then you stay at the lake.' Any errors are mine, and not for her to try to repair. If I need her to patient and wait for me, I need to know she will. I need to trust her.

My final point was that she cannot hide from me anymore. Not her tears, any pain she feels, her sadness, her life, her happiness, her joy I told her that she needs to be an open book and I need access to all those pages. I reminded Mouse that she is never allowed to lock me out, this includes physical door locking and now it included mental barriers. I did say at some point I might want to know more about her life, I expected her to share it with me. I also added that for now, I felt I had enough information and might not ever enquire further.

I  offered my word of honor that I will be the man she thinks me to be. I will try very hard to never disappoint her. I will always love her. She is now and forever my family. My real family. The only family that matters is the one we have created together.

Now she was crying the happiest of tears and they pleased me greatly.

This morning I woke after being pleasured by my slave; I was extremely pleased. I was looking forward to a quiet Sunday. As I walked passed the front door, I noticed two large boxes outside on our porch. I opened the door and brought them inside the kitchen, and opened them. Many years ago, I gave our parents a gift of Baccarat crystal, a complete service for 12 of water, wine, champaign and cordial glassware. Over the years, the original number had dwindled, but most remained. When our mother passed, I learned my sister had taken them. I had not said anything to her about this. It never bothered me. Mouse has a nice set of crystal, although not as large.

I resealed the box and dropped the first on the floor. Then I dropped the second box. By this time, Mouse was running into the room and I made an excuse that they slipped and I think she understood that was in that accidentally on purpose way. I carried them carelessly to the SUV tossed them into the back and closed the back. I watched as they slid around the back of the SUV as I took corners too quickly and laughed. I drove to my sister's house and dropped the boxes onto her doorstep and drove away.

It might not have been the right thing to do, but in that moment it felt damn good.