What a Week

It's been over a week since Master's punishment of mouse was implemented. It ended rather unceremoniously the following Thursday when again the topic was revisited. The attitude was much improved, according to Him and He was pleased overall with the change. This was perplexing for His slave since she didn't see a huge shift in her behavior. It mostly circled around letting Him handle family disagreements. Instead of losing her temper, she simply quietly explained that whatever wasn't allowed, and if there was a problem they could speak with Him. 

It worked. Instead of getting caught up in a circular argument. It just stopped and then by mirroring the behaviors that we want them to emulate things calmed down. Meanwhile, it was like being in a cave for mouse. Master still not allowing her in the bed, sometimes making her write lines well into the evening on the floor by candlelight, using her for His own pleasure. Inserting the large plug when it pleased Him most, watching her suffer through the enema and struggle to bird bath bathe in the empty tub. Yet, doting and doing things for Him, drying Him off after a shower, drinking His piss when He directed it.  

In the evening it was much like being in a cave mentally for mouse, alone, feeling adrift yet, tethered securely to Him. There was something unsettling about it all. Did He hate His slave? Was He so angry with her or merely disappointed that now He decided she wasn't worth further effort? 

Yet, He showed no anger, and offered praise even, like when mouse went to the grocery store and came home with lots of healthy foods (as well as some well loved snacks for the kids). He was pleased that there was now a posted weekly menu for dinnertime. The kids now almost as rote would appear and begin setting the table, which of course mouse would check to make sure it was being done correctly (as the week went on they got better). 

Still that unsettled feeling really rankled mouse. He spoke later that understood but it was ultimately part of the lesson He wished her to learn, His authority is really absolute and her position isn't just a given thing. It's earned and given freely by Him and as He demonstrated, He can take it back whenever He wished to. It was like being led into the sunlight again. He was the sun and mouse merely an object caught in His orbit. There was something comforting in that. Those continued to swim through mouse's mind. 

That feeling of containment. 

Being His thing. 

Still there are plenty of times where He's telling terrible Dad jokes, He's cuddling mouse, He's always kind and generous and obviously she loves when He's a bit more Daddy than Master. The fly in the ointment is that we go too long with "Daddy" the Master must appear to reassert His control, because honestly mouse becomes too used to Him forgiving her and begins, probably like most people, to take that for granted. It's not to suggest He has never taken mouse for granted -- He has and admitted it in His own postings here. 

However, anytime it's brought up one truth is inescapable, His slave functions far better when He is a little cold and distant. It's like there's a clear line where mouse knows "do not cross" or "keep off the grass." It makes her feel safe and that strong lull of containment. 

Being Held Accountable

Master hasn't been thrilled with His slave lately. Things today are different, everyone is home most of the time, the quiet moments are few and far between and mouse began feeling overwhelmed. Instead of using her voice, asking Him for help, or just explaining her frustrations, mouse became mouthy, snappish and very quick to downright anger. This was concerning to Master, who first made sure mouse wasn't hiding illness again from Him, because she was nearly that bad. He didn't really think that was the problem since He noticed it building slowly over a period of time. It seemed unfair to Him to punish because of the pandemic, since He felt the added stresses, but He also couldn't take it any longer, we all are fairly used to this new version of normal. This also wasn't an all the time thing obviously. 

This wasn't about keeping house, or anything except attitude. Master told mouse, after the house was quiet on Thursday evening to go to the bedroom, undress, kneel and wait for Him. That certainly brought a shiver that went straight up her spine. Quickly, mouse removed her make-up, brushed her teeth, undressed completely, lit a candle in the corner, turned off the bathroom light and knelt down at the foot of the bed and waited. 

How we see ourselves is often far harsher than how others might see us, but this was not one of those times. Honestly as mouse did that mental accounting, it still mystified her a little as to why this was happening now. As she waited, rolling over in her mind her recent behavior and how shameful it was. That was truly the main feeling she had. Shame. Nude, exposed and impure. This was punishment and not fun. Waiting wasn't easy as she mentally ranked the offenses. In days passed the whipping would be harsh but now things are different. Wistfully she mused if this would be it. Contemplatively kneeling, reflecting on the wrongs and then discussion about what could be done better or how to handle the triggers more effectively. The next thought chilled her, would this be enough? Sure knowing you've disappointed your Master should be enough but it rarely is for some reason. 

This was taking forever as tears began to roll down her cheeks and now aware that her legs weren't happy in this position, as she began to shift her weight, desperate to find that center of gravity. Finally Master's presence was the distraction she needed, as she heard Him enter, felt the air as He walked across the room, and sat on the chair by His side of the bed. If He were interested in having a view of His slave, where He was seated wasn't the spot. Then at last Master began to speak, and hearing His side of things was worse. What He described was more akin to being a "fishwife" than a slave. Maybe it was good He couldn't see mouse since her tears might have seemed trite regardless of how sincere they felt to her? Now worry filled her. The kneeling discomfort vanished and He called mouse to Him. Not sure if watching her crawl was pleasing or not, but standing was out of the question. 

He moved the chair and offered a hand to help her stand. He positioned her in the corner, nose to the wall, and told her to not move. He was getting ready for bed and left mouse to contemplate. Knowing what would come next, He would likely ask her what she could do differently to self correct and it had better be convincing. Maybe convincing isn't the right word, she's not trying to trick Him. Master wants to know that she's taking this all very seriously. For a brief moment as mouse stood there, nose to the corner and hands behind her back, wondered if the lash would be easier? A good thrashing and the problem would be solved. 

Or would it? 

Here we go again trying to dictate her slavery to Him on her own terms, when it's not about her at all and only Him. The only thing Master wanted was a slave that didn't back talk to anyone. He also understood why it sometimes happened, but He also reminded mouse that we're supposed to be modeling good behavior. He really shouldn't need to remind her of anything, especially at this point. If it were possible deeper remorse was settling in, as Master reentered the room and told mouse to bend over the side of the bed. Feeling His fingers probe her asshole, then feeling the fullness of the plug being inserted. Then she felt Him enter her, which really hurt because He's large and the plug was large too. Any excitement she might have felt was rapidly diminishing as pain began to overtake. His large hands now grabbed and clawed at her nipples and breasts. This was ONLY for His pleasure. When He finished He simply pushed off her, pulled her from the bed, threw her pillow onto the floor and informed her that she wasn't welcome in the bed until she was better behaved. 

For now, she was nothing important to Him and only a slave, undeserving of any courtesy. The following morning an since, she has bathed in the tub with cool water (not a huge hardship since it's been so warm) and washing her hair in the tub as well. No showers with Master. And must wait in the tub until her body dries before dressing. This is after He showers and she dries Him off with a towel. During the day she is to keep a civil tongue in her head and He's definitely paying attention. Since He's working from home most days, He doesn't allow the others living in the house to take advantage. Let's face it, sharks can smell blood in the water, and so can kids. He's not letting them to take unfair advantage. 

It was sometime over the weekend that it suddenly occurred to mouse that this is what He wants. He's the authority. Such a simple thing. He did allow a few blankets on the floor for mouse to lay on at night providing a scant amount of cushion.  Everything else has been, so far, going along fine. 

Since this is ongoing, there might be a followup to this post at some point. Or maybe it really is just what it is. 

Housewife Chronicles

This post was originally published over at mouse droppings, but after brief reflection felt it was also perfectly suited here. Lately, there has been a struggle to post here, with most of her thoughts revolving around cleaning, cooking and service to Master, it makes for a rather dull blog. It seems mouse has come to an odd crossroads. For those unaware, mouse droppings (cleverly named by Master) is a companion blog, for other more service related posts that with an occasional mention of sex, but remain fairly vanilla in thoughts. 

Staring at the cursor, you ponder where do you begin this recent tale of exhaustion? You, like most days, have spent the day cleaning, cooking and re-cleaning afterward. It's 11pm, the dishwasher is emptied, the kitchen countertops cleaned, sink scrubbed. Everything is ready for the bustling morning that will follow. You're beyond tired, yesterday was a special day that required more than the usual number of hours cooking, multiple pots and pans that required attention, and even a dessert was lovingly prepared by your own hands. Additionally, you also spent the day doting on your Husband, Father of your children, making extra certain He wanted for nothing. It had been a lovely day and the exhaustion you feel is a good thing because it's the kind that comes from being happy in service. Ironically, someone in your home mentioned that it was also the "longest day of the year," and all you can think is 'no kidding.' For you, really, every day seems long, stretching out each of the minutes, until it seems all is completed.

Carefully, you make your way to bedroom, creeping inside. Your Husband is already sleeping, He has a big day tomorrow and the last thing you want is to disturb His slumber. You carefully shut the door behind you and creep your way into the bathroom and close that door as well before switching on the light. You undress, placing the clothing into the proper spot, your things are kept, before washing your face, brushing your teeth. Last stop before sleep is a quick trip to potty. You sit, reach for the toilet paper and instantly realize you are at the end of the roll. You do that awkward reach around to check for the extra roll that lives on the toilet tank, but there's nothing there. You close your eyes silently hoping what meager amount in your hand is enough. You just make it. 

Now, your next problem emerges as you reach for the soap to wash your hands. You need more toilet paper. You can't just leave it, because it's highly likely that you'll be the one to wake and need to pee, or worse that you'll sleep peacefully through the night and your Master will get up early...You know which would be worse by instinct and history. 

You turn the light off in the bathroom, quietly open that door that squeaks annoyingly, and then realize as you reach the bedroom door you're nude. Now, you ponder, is anyone else awake? Will anyone else see your naked form as you walk down the hall. You listen and decide the coast is clear, because in the dark closet without having to close the squeaky door, and turn on a light, you'd never find your bathrobe and it's just a quick run to the linen closet where the extra rolls are stowed. 

You briskly walk to the closet, in the darkness reach your hand up to where the rolls are located, or supposed to be located and find ONE roll. Now leaves you feeling disgruntled since you just refilled it a few days ago and it's already nearly empty.  What are these people doing with it? You don't need wrap it around your hand like a catcher's mitt? That, obviously, would be news to them. You make a mental note to again refill that shelf, and simultaneously, feel blessed there was that single roll still present. Quietly you return to the bedroom, close the bedroom and enter reenter the bathroom. 

The next problem presents itself in a natural way. How to replace the roll in complete darkness. Yes, your eyes have somewhat adjusted to the dark, switching on the light is unthinkable (squeaky door problems). The toilet paper holder isn't a "modern one" you just slide off the old roll and replace, it's a tricky one that is held between two holders, with the roll holder rod, telescoping between the two sides. Finding the hole, getting the roll on is often tricky during the day as more than once you've launched the metal roll holder across the bathroom, always it seems against the tile. Carefully, you feel for the ends, the holes where the holder seats properly, repeatedly testing by tugging. This is too much effort for so late at night, but you emerge victorious. You did not launch it across the bathroom. 

If you felt exhausted before, if you felt the strong pull of bed, where it's warm and you can at last lay down and sleep...That extra five or so minutes felt painfully long to you. Bed was right there before you went to the bathroom, and now it's closer than before. Still more is always asked of you. Carefully, in a prayerful manner, you kneel beside the bed. If your Master were awake, you'd wait for His invitation to enter it, either by His word or deed. You know that won't happen tonight, so there is no shortcut but to wait the predetermined time. Now that time feels arbitrary, and wrong. The minutes tick, as you consider options. He would never know if you just climbed into bed, would He? Master is sound asleep, His breaths are slow, long and even. What would the harm be to just abandon the pre-bed ritual? He would never be the wiser, after all, you've worked your butt off today, more so than usual and all to make His day a special one. His evening meal, extra grand. You did your duty, filled and refilled His drink, offered Him snacks, sucked His cock when the mood struck Him...

How would He know if you didn't wait the 20 minutes before climbing into bed at the end of a completely exhausting day? Why wait 20 minutes anyway? Why such an arbitrary number? You recall the day He let you know about His expectations for your behavior, when you asked specifically if He didn't answer how long should she wait before assuming permission was granted and He said, rather unthoughtfully, "twenty minutes slave." The idea being that would certainly give Him enough time to raise any objections, should He have any.  Ruefully, your next thought is that should only apply electronic communications, yet you can recall many instances where, at home, you also painfully waited.

Your burden to wait is at His pleasure. You are owned property, not a free person with autonomy to just decide for yourself what you should or should not be allowed. Only He has that freedom to choose, and you gave up that last bit of your freedom to Him to decide such things for you. At least you managed to resolve this on your own, taking comfort in your pause, your persistent evaluation of your surrender, and the twenty minutes has passed. You climb between the sheets at long last, feeling the muscles stretch comfortably and relax. You whisper, "Thank you Master" as you drift off to an uncomplicated sleep, finding comfort in the one fact that tomorrow you'll gladly do it all again. 

Music is a Balm for a Weary Soul

We found a radio! Yes, a real radio complete with antenna. It does play CDs and even has a now ancient iPod doc that mouse found, on accident, while giving it a thorough cleaning, before finding it a spot of honor in our kitchen.

We found it in a box of things we'd brought down a summer or two ago, but never opened. Master's neat writing on the top of the box, indicated a few highlighted items inside. "Vases, kitchen knick knacks, radio, and small water pitcher" the top of the box read. We had forgotten about the box completely. The vases were extra ones mouse had packed up, if we hadn't used them at the lake she had resolved to just donate those to charity. The small pitcher was a nice find, because we'd been looking for it. Or rather mouse has, because it's the perfect size for the fridge when she gets too many oranges and decides to make fresh squeezed juice.

The music filled the house, eventually. We gave up trying to find a radio station worth listening to, and dragged out CDs, digging through the vehicles even to find more. It's not a lot but during those times when the news of the day becomes too heavy, it's nice to just unplug and listen to something soothing that doesn't impact or tied to our wonky internet connection.

Two old but both good cookbooks (that mouse had assumed had just gone missing) were found also in the box, so mouse has done a deep dive into those.

Master had the news on a few days ago, it's a local station but the violence erupting across the country, made mouse feel very edgy. Instead of switching off the TV, He pulled mouse close to Him and suggested that a cake might be nice for dessert. That action alone occupied mouse nicely and the end result wasn't terrible.

Feeling Enslaved Takes a lot of Worry Away

The endorphin rush she often gets when treated like an object or asked to behave as such (when Master required mouse to serve the family meal recently), plugged and unable to argue, greatly lessens the stresses she might normally have. Trusting Master to guide, protect and assist when needed helps foster those emotional ease she's been feeling of late. Keeping her mind away from matters she needn't obsess over, and keeping the focus on more important things. Things have certainly come together nicely on the past few weeks.

Master has said that during the summer months, as probably tourists and part-time residents return, there is likely to be an increase in virus cases. While we hope that doesn't happen Master said it's best to be pragmatic about this. We will continue to mostly keep to ourselves, as we've done since arriving here. For the foreseeable future, we are staying put.

A busy woman is contented? Not sure but mouse is certainly keeping occupied lately. The cooking alone is rather endless and now that the cleaning bug has bit her, well she's delving into all the dark corners. And she's never been more happy. The world keeps turning, and while it seems that everything is unsettled and terrifying, our home is orderly and there's a hot meal on the table. It can't be all bad, right?

Now Here I Go Again

I see the crystal visions

I keep my visions to myself

Things are truly different now than they were before and our time at lake has felt oddly normal, punctuated by glimpses of the oddness in the world today. The farmers market, a staple in the small lake community is open, but no samples, veggies are wrapped, no free picking the ones you want. You walk passed much a like a cake-walk, and pick up a bag of whatever it is you're looking for. Small things you might only need one or two of (say garlic) you ask for, like the prescription counter. It helps to have a relationship with various merchants, they know what their regular customers always buy and some will have those things ready for you, weighed out with a price for a box. It's amazing how they remember. 

Everyone is required to wear a mask, something Master initially balked at, since the early recommendation by the Centers for Disease Control said you didn't need one, but recently seemed to change their mind. He began researching, reading scientific studies and anecdotal observations from His brother and other doctors led Him to the conclusion that mouse will wear a mask when she leaves the house and as we all go out more now, we all do. He reminded mouse that science doesn't "change its mind, but rather follows evidence as more becomes available." As time passes they might even reverse the reversal but He really doesn't think they will. 

We have ventured out a few times as a family, standing together in group and keeping a distance from other groups of people doing the same. We pause, sometimes talk a little while maintaining that physical distance and move along. The playground is closed, but the park is open and we had a nice picnic there the other day. It felt nearly normal. 

That's what mouse means how normal life at the lake feels, since we normally are there on a vacation, we're used to the bustling house, everyone opening the fridge multiple times a day, everyone leaving cabinets open and lights on. Kids don't notice the little things that drop on the floor, adults do. We sometimes have to fight with the computer to get connected so whoever can join the Zoom or Google meeting they need to attend (thankfully, mouse is excused from any such meetings). 

Guess the point is, we're used to the lake house being a far more relaxed environment. The floors are constantly getting sand dragged in from the beach area at the lake's shore. Clutter is everywhere and we're all guilty of just dropping things wherever we happened to be. Bread is left out on countertop, nothing really put away. Master while being a bit of neat-nick, has changed a bit as He's gotten older and the children predominate everything, He's taken a far more relaxed attitude when compared to the "level of clean" He used to hold. The small kitchen, dining and living areas become the hub of activity in our daily lives. He did add some storage shelves to the garage area, where we can store extras we might have and can clearly see when something is needed.

General cleaning is done, but it's more of a going over, than a deep clean mouse would normally be doing, because no sooner has something been deep cleaned someone else comes along and makes a mess. Master said, "let it go." We're all on top of each other so sometimes cleaning is difficult. We've never all been around each other for such an extended period of time. Usually there's school, working outside the home, and other outings that keep the house mess down to a minimum. Then there's the meals, breakfast, lunch and dinner (plus snacks) daily.

No time away from the home means naturally a messier abode.

So, where is mouse going with this?

Last evening we had a stable internet connection, so mouse began looking at various magazines offered by the Apple News Plus app on her iPad. Master gifted her a monthly subscription since most of the magazines they offered (such as Better Homes and Gardens, Real Simple, House Beautiful) mouse reads anyway and those annual subscriptions to those other magazines she reads, would end up costing far more than the $10 price point the app charges. Still there's something odd that happens to mouse as she looks at pictures of gorgeous immaculate, picture perfect homes, or treasured antiques, she feels the need to tidy up our own living spaces. It's almost a compulsion that she has.

The same thing happens if she watches a film about a maid even if the cleaning isn't the subject, but if they show the person cleaning, then mouse suddenly needs to clean. Often, she would joke that watching Downton Abby would lead her to days of polishing silver, fluffing pillows and baking. Master just smiles but rarely says anything because He enjoys seeing a busy slave. Or rather, His slave being busy.

In the morning, as mouse began to clean up the messy areas (like the kitchen table), clearing everything off, removing the table cloth (which had been on for a month or longer) and vacuuming under everything Master just watched. He said we can now eat a proper meal at that table again. Then He called mouse to Him, after looking around that everyone was occupied, checked the time, and had mouse bend over the table with her fingers splayed apart, as He carefully slipped into her rear. Her ass filled with cock, and she struggled to pretend to not enjoy the action. This was only for His pleasure and she knew it.

It doesn't mean that she doesn't enjoy it or that He doesn't know that she enjoyed it. It's that He doesn't care because that's not the purpose at that moment. When He finished, He produced the large glass plug and slid it into her, as He whispered into her ear that she would be wearing it until after the kitchen was cleaned. He said she could eat standing up or wait until later and offer an excuse but she would be serving the meal to our family tonight.

This put mouse in the most delicious headspace as she cooked the evening meal (a pot roast) with a rich beefy sauce with cherry popovers for dessert that went into the oven after the meal was plated. He likes occasional meals like this, so our children learn how to help themselves to a portion of food, high table manners are expected for meals such as these. He grades the children and corrects them as needed, while engaging in small talk and encouraging them to join in.

High protocol occasional meals such as this require lots of plates and a more rather formal setting than the children are used to. It's good, He has observed that they need to understand how to behave in certain settings that go beyond a simple restaurant or meals at a friends house. We haven't had a fancy meal out (a cloth napkin place) since last year so He felt it was time for a skills lab of sorts.

Truly it felt good to be of such use and have that swimmy feelings of slavery that she hadn't felt for a long time. 

Observations of a slave

Good morning dear friends,

We hope this finds you healthy and safe.

So far we have managed to stay healthy and our two weeks of being sequestered has ended, allowing mouse to move about the community. This is certainly a strange time for everyone. Schools have employed what they call "distance learning" and they haven't a clue how distant we are. Master is "distance working" and mouse has settled into a routine of just serving being useful to Master, which is nice since there is no distance between us.

It requires things to change, on top of all our other changes, and change is hard for some but really for mouse it isn't very difficult. Change has always been part of her life and adapting to various changes is part of it. Sometimes the changes aren't a big deal and there is still a huge pushback from the slave. This time, with all the virus uncertainty there isn't any, at all. Master doesn't drive or escort her to the store and she travels alone, which before was unsettling, but this time around, it's not a bother in the least. it's what she needs to do to keep everyone safe.

That includes Master, who is suffering probably more. While He isn't a Man that is the life of party, or needs to be around crowds of people, He enjoys listening to live music, or going out to dinner or drinks out. He doesn't mind crowded spaces like parks or beaches (or the lake). He is good at ignoring others. He enjoys His sports, chatting with colleagues about work and now there's just none of that. We've dragged out every puzzle we own, set up the small card table and set to work, as long as no one foolishly opens a window (mouse) things are good.

Of course, learning a puzzle piece is missing makes Him a little salty.

Meanwhile, mouse has been keeping herself occupied with cooking (which is a challenge), cleaning and the shrinking laundry pile. Strange, it's like no one in the house is really wearing clothing. Ok, that's not right but they're just not changing their clothes as they normally would. Our second week at the lake passed and mouse ventured out to get food. It's almost amazing how stressful that felt, after not leaving for two weeks, going out to the store felt different as though one might be taking a risk. Returning home, putting everything away and then, having it mostly picked through by everyone in the house.

There's been a shift in the way He manages. It used to be Master would hand mouse a sum of money, and say simply, "make it work." Making it work was often a challenge, augmented by meals out at times or times when He'd offer to just pick up a meal because the protein wasn't yet defrosted (which the slave might be subjected to punishment for, but that's another story).Since all this has started, the stores prices have gone up a little, but also many shelves are empty, which adds a different complication to the process and the added stress of Grocery Store Bingo, where you wonder, what will they have this week? Since this last shopping trip, mouse had zero expectations of what the store might have, she went with a mental recipe book in her head. Which led to a lot of running back and forth -- searching for the extras needed to make whatever recipe work. It's not just planning for dinner, but breakfast, and lunches too, since everyone is eating every meal at home. There are a few places that offer take-out meals, but we haven't felt the need to venture in that way.

The new way is that Master has given mouse a debit card, because He doesn't want her handling cash, and sends her to the market with a detailed list of things we need or just want to have. Everyone has been chipping in, writing things they'd like on ever growing list. It's a huge help and limits surprises. Of course, if a favorite brand isn't available, mouse can substitute for a different brand, or leave it for the next shopping trip. He was amazed at how much mouse spent on the last trip (nearly $300), and how quickly some of the new stuff went. Really no one in this house ever eats that many apples, unless they're all baked into a pie. The fear is that next week, she'll buy more and they'll sit until they are baked into a pie.

Maybe that's plan? 

Q U A R A N T I N E

Quarantine Day 18

In the opening scene of the film Aviator we see a young Howard Hughes (played by Leonardo DiCaprio) being bathed by His mother and spelling out the word quarantine. It sets a tone for the film and the odd OCD type way Hughes was known for. Will the children that grow up in the post quarantine world have an irrational fear of never having enough toilet paper? It's a real possibility.

The choices we make today are going to guide the children that come after. Personally, we wonder if we are doing anything right! It's scary to be so uncertain.

It's been difficult for everyone, we're no exception. Staying home is hard. Going out into the world, no matter how brief is hard too.  You constantly worry, "don't touch your face" "don't get too close to anyone else"

There's so much anxiety and worry.

With that in mind, Master decided we should all just depart for the lake. He contacted the local sheriff to let them know of our plans, we have purchased enough food (fingers crossed on that one) to ensure that we won't have to leave the house for at least two or three weeks after we arrive. Then we can ease into the community. The sheriff agreed with our plans (especially the part of arriving with everything we need to last a couple weeks) so we won't have to stop along the way.

Today was shopping day, made a bunch of sandwiches for the road and we leave in a few hours, we aren't anticipating much traffic and hopefully that'll bear true.

Connecting here will be spotty, but we hope to be able to.

Stay safe everyone!