June

It's been a while since mouse last posted but really there isn't a lot to blog about. There hasn't be much going on, Master has been traveling more and His slave struggles without Him. When He returns the world again spins and mouse rather happily remains caught in His orbit. The rattle of chains returns, especially in our bedroom space. He doesn't allow mouse to touch toys, so anal plugs aren't part of her routine. The enema He doesn't view as "toy" but a procedure she must endure daily. 

Master has remarked a few times that mouse hasn't posted so she showed Him the 20 or so posts sitting in the draft folder, most are far too personal or identifying. He read through them, asked a few questions but nothing much. There were tidbits that could be used. A few weeks ago, Master had reminded mouse while we don't really use a safe word, in the true sense, we do have words or signals that we do use in public areas (this includes our home when the others are present). It's no secret that mouse has been in talk therapy. The issues go back to that period following the health emergency she had in 2019, there were cognitive issues and her mental health plummeted as a result. The pandemic required a different shift, as we were isolated from the world in an almost nice way. Since returning slowly to our pre-pandemic world, mouse has learned that she needs to let Master know when she feels uncomfortable. Crowded spaces bothered her before but now they trigger a claustrophobic response from her. In learning new coping skills mouse also learned to let Master know before she hits the freakout point. 

One way she deals is use a "safeword" specifically possum. When the kids are around and mouse begins feeling overwhelmed she can say to Master that she saw a possum outside in the yard and He'll take control. Another way we found works just as well, is for mouse to take hold of His hand silently. In our relationship Master can touch mouse with His hands, but mouse isn't allowed to touch Him unless He tells her to. By grasping His hand He is made aware because of the breech in protocol that His slave is feeling overwhelmed at that moment, if at a party or gathering, He might pull her aside to speak with her to learn the trouble or take her for a stroll, or even leave if that's appropriate. Like any safe word, mouse is careful to not just do it for the sake of she doesn't want to be there. Triggers are like minefields, and sometimes you just don't know when or how they'll hit you. Taking hold of His hand is a way for Him to understand that something has happened, real or imagined that has His slave on edge.  

There are moments when we're together -- in that way -- He will be on top, moving in that slow delicious way inside her and once in a while she needs to touch Him. That feeling is just overwhelming and she will move her arm around Him, tentatively, touching while holding her breath for His reaction to that. Sometimes her touch is met with a growl from Him to move her arms back above her head (where they're supposed to be) but occasionally He will allow it. More rare but not unheard of, Master will command her to touch Him. The place it comes from is His control over her. It's the mystery of the dance we often do between Master and slave. The little things that keep her in that delicate place. 

Master no longer awards points or collects demerits, instead if problems crop up, mouse is punished when it happens (if possible) or He will say, "Now is not the time, but you will be punished." Now, if mouse is punished she is made to sleep on what He now refers as the bad girl spot in the corner of the bedroom. Not in His bed. He can see her. He tells her if she's allowed in the bed or not (although when He's traveling for work He has stated she is to sleep in bed). 

Soon we will be leaving for the lake, Master will join us on weekends and continue His workaday life. It'll be difficult but we'll make it work. 

The Things You Said Today

You pick the place and I'll choose the time
And I'll climb the hill in my own way
Just wait a while for the right day
And as I rise above the treeline and the clouds
I look down hearing the sound of the things you said today

Today is the first Monday of May, mouse has been proving even more helpful to Master, in ways neither of us anticipated. It turns out mouse is quite competent at packing specifically, unpacking and repacking His case, making sure His toiletry bag is filled the way He likes it. Taking care that He has everything He needs, including His diabetic needs. He remarked that He was becoming quite dependent on mouse to do those things for Him and that made her happy. His mind becomes so filled with all work related things, He would sometimes neglect to make sure He had the candies He sometimes needs if His insulin goes too high.

His remarking how dependent He was now on her also made her more aware this was now her responsibility. He still handles all of His usual supplies, but having her handle the backup supplies has been a load off His mind. As vaccinations become more available He's noticing more people traveling and complaining about wearing a mask, something He believes is a waste of energy. Also another sign is that party invitations are coming in. People anxious to gather. As a people watcher, parties are delightful, as an introvert they're also a hassle so mouse has been speaking to her therapist about coping strategies. Knowing fully what Master expects certainly helps to beat down those fears. People's remarks that would have caused mouse to reply back with a sarcasm, now just flowed off her. it's tribal and mouse when feeling angered or dismayed reminded herself instead that these aren't her people, she's merely visiting. 

Master kept her close to Him and she just smiled and looked pretty while He chatted it up with colleagues. There were plenty of times people (especially other women) would ask her what she does for a living, it's that bit of small talk everyone does, and then when mouse admits she doesn't work outside the home they do this weird validation thing, "oh you know it's the hardest job." Or the ever popular "good for you." 

Rolls off her like water off a duck's back. By the end of the evening mouse was getting tired and her face was hurting from smiling, Master guided her to yet another group (He was doing what He does, working the room) and introduced them. Again fake smiling mouse listened to the banter and then one of the women asked mouse what she did.  It was the umpteenth time she'd been asked this and was considering wearing a badge next time, and the reply just slipped out. 

"Oh I'm a slave," mouse replied, then with a gentle wink and probably the first genuine smile, she added, "You know, housewife and mother."  

While she didn't dare look to Master, she heard a woman say, "OMG me too!" There was no false pretense, and the woman even followed it up with, "isn't it just the best?" and sorta pulled mouse aside. Now, mouse was cautious as she listened to the woman prattle on about how horrible people are toward us stay at home spouses. Without agreeing or disagreeing mouse simply said it was nice to be always available to her husband (loud enough for Master to hear) and with that the other woman's eyes flew open and she pulled mouse even further away and whispered she didn't think any of the couples even bothered with sex anymore. This woman was itching for a friend. Master walked over and apologized for intruding and explained we had to leave. The woman looked sad we were going and mouse was as kind as she could muster. 

On the way home, mouse was actually feeling guilty, and lost in thoughts trying to puzzle the "why" out. Master drew her attention back on Him by sternly saying, "Do not ever make a crack like that again." Closing her eyes mouse winced a little, knowing she shouldn't reduce our relationship to a joke for her own sick shits and giggles. That's probably one reason why she felt guilty,  the other reason was more complex. This woman had reached out to her, (presumably) desperate for friendship and mouse couldn't even remember her name. Many times mouse would chide Master that He really didn't anyone, honestly in truth mouse found most relationships and friendships difficult too, maybe more so than even Him. Those times she chided Him were probably more about her own fears that she wasn't really needed by Him.  

Mildly angry when we reached home, Master said very little to her. We pretended all was well, as we talked to the children (video game chat that He finds uninteresting) before He said we were tired and going to bed. Finally kicking off her shoes mouse squeezed her toes into the carpet, and un-clipping her garter and rolling down the hose as she walked into the bathroom. The tile felt nice against her burning soles, as she took off her jewelry she'd worn that evening and asked for Master's help in unzipping her dress. Still in her chemise mouse washed her face and brushed her teeth. He was hanging up His suit, when He caught her gaze.  

After she hung up her dress, mouse wriggled out of the chemise, removed the garter and bra placing in the drawer and stood waiting for instructions. Still mentally puzzling over the evening and trying to find a way out of the guilt she was feeling. Master misunderstood the guilt she was feeling though and then she had correct Him about that. He thought she was feeling bad because He had called her out on the crack she made. That comment she made, she felt was nothing, just a joke and while it was probably in poor taste, the reason she felt guilty was because of that woman she was talking to. 

Mentally, Master  put a pin the "joke" remark and asked why. Had the woman said something upsetting...What had we talked about? He was full of curiosity and probably protective. At this point He put on His robe before He guided her to main bedroom, telling her to kneel in front Him as He sat in the chair. Trying to find the right words wasn't simple but eventually the pieces began to fit together. While mouse could completely empathize, with this woman she didn't know, about motherhood and felt some brief kinship, because it is at times very isolating. It's nothing like it used to be. Stay at home mother's are rare (fathers are even more rare). It's lonely at times and contrary to what many say about it being the hardest job in the world, once the kids are out of diapers and into school, it's really not all that difficult. You tend to feel more like a referee at that point than a parent. 

"Do you want to be friends with this woman?" Master asked and probably felt a bit of relief when mouse replied, "God no!" Then added that the guilt she felt was probably because she found the woman to be too needy. In the past mouse would have jumped at a friendship until it became too consuming. Right now, between her own therapy, Master, her slavery to Him, and our family there's more than enough and she couldn't handle trying to juggle in another person. What made mouse feel guilty was that the woman in all her neediness was probably holding on by a thread and mouse just couldn't take that on. It wasn't a judgment, it was simply self-preservation for mouse. 

Exhausted from her own rationalization, mouse quietly rested her head onto Master's thigh and He stroked her hair. 

Master has never asked much about her therapy sessions, we have the unspoken rule that we don't discuss our lifestyle in a specific way. It's more about, for mouse, coping with the past which is really more about life before Master. Very important stuff is shared with Him at once. Through therapy (and maybe age), mouse has learned that she's probably always been exactly who she is and needs a firm hand to guide her. In the simplest of terms, mouse is a slave and not suited to have the agency to direct her own life.

Petting her softly, Master simply remarked that she's different now than she used to be, understanding how vulnerable she truly is and far more willing to isolate herself from people who might become unwittingly too much for her handle. 

"You are both more fragile and stronger than you used to be. Therapy has helped you more than I appreciated." 

It was nice to hear that from Him. Then He stated that correction for what she had said was still required, even if she knew it was wrong, even if it was only a joke in her eyes, it was not funny to Him. There was nothing to say about it, so mouse simply moved off His thigh and got herself into position. He retreated to the closet and she could hear Him rummaging around the boxes and she closed her eyes trying to mentally prepare herself. 

Once again He cautioned her to not make a sound, save for the counts, twenty. He didn't show her what He'd be using but the sound it made coming down told her it was His old friend the riding crop. He brought it down in that stingy way (He claims it wasn't nearly as hard as He used to, but its been a long time and mouse just disagrees with Him on that) and made her whimper softly as she called out the numbers. The final few really smarted and reduced her to tears. He repeated after why she was being corrected and she said that she understood and would never do that again. 

Understanding what Master wants from mouse and watching her do something that is counter to that is frustrating for Him. True to His word, He let the matter go. 

Master ultimately decided to not use the points anymore, He doesn't want mouse to confuse her service to Him as an expectation of reward. The ultimate reward is providing good service and now she understands better what that is and how best achieved. 

It came to her rather suddenly watching a video on YouTube of a dog learning a new trick that this was what He did. Originally, the owner of the dog explained they used food as the reward, then got the dog used to the clicker by offering the food and the click. when that association was made they used only the clicker and eventually the dog didn't need the click and just behaved as expected. Yes, mouse is the dog. 

Master chuckled when she told Him about her observation and He sat thoughtfully for a moment and said rather too matter-of-factually that 'pets and slaves were not dissimilar.' As much as mouse tried to be pissed at Him for that statement, she could come up with nothing to counter it.  

For a few weeks mouse felt deeply rattled and unsettled. The therapist scheduled a time to speak to us both about this. The unspoken rule is that Master shouldn't ask why ahead of the meeting. How He held His tongue, mouse cannot understand. The therapist is like the conduit, who helps mouse find her voice to share difficult things with Him. Aware of the rules He sat comfortably, and just listened. 

I am rarely concerned about these encounters (curious yes). They always prove productive for mouse to foster trust and bridge a gap between where we are and her past. My slave worries far too much and tends to overthink issues that are beyond her grasp. This is not meant to be a rebuke or in any way to silence her. --Omega 

Trying to explain her unsettled feelings, she began slowly in a meandering and often awkward way. The therapist encouraged her to continue. He slowly began to realize that mouse wasn't complaining about Him but more herself and her fears that she could never be what He needs her to be.  Again, we don't discuss our Master/slave relationship in any specific way with the therapist (even though the therapist is kink aware). The fear while totally about our Master/slave lives could easily be part of a vanilla relationship as well. 

In the car going home, Master assured mouse that He was never leaving her and remarked that it must have been exhausting to have such a strong worry. He sympathized with her and said He understands that she feel very vulnerable and then said, "aren't you tired slave?" Not really understanding, He tried to clarify, "Isn't it exhausting to worry about something that would never occur when you could just be happy and engaged?" He wasn't diminishing her fears or making her feel bad for having them. He was simply stating a fact that she worries too much when she just let that worry go and be the way she is. 

Master reassured in every way He could think, meanwhile she was chewing on what He had said only because the therapist has said it too. That evening back in the bedroom, mouse came to Him and admitted that she is very tired. He pulled her into His lap and and told her to breathe, He spoke very calmly to her and said He would help her, in His most soothing tone He walked her through conscious breathing techniques. Then He got up disappeared. Pulling her robe on mouse found him in His study where He was on the computer. 

There was a book He found useful on the subject, He was sure He still had it but it wasn't around. He ordered a copy from Amazon. Standing there, she bit her lip. Seeing her He asked naturally "what?" and mouse said He had lent her that book after alpha passed, she was experiencing problems with coping. Then she admitted she never really looked at it (or doesn't recall looking at it), left it on a shelf and probably ended up in the donation pile when she moved.  

He smirked at that, and said no doubt it was likely on purpose it landed it in that pile. Way back then, we weren't exactly on the best of terms. 

While He mused out loud about the statute of limitations on punishments, she mused also out loud on the statute of limitations on apologies. Master pulled her close and said simply there is never a statute on apologies. Master said rather simply this was why He never lent out books. 

Back in bed we made love, with lots of touching, caressing, licking, tasting and biting (He loves to bite) and after mouse told Him how very much she loves Him. Damn it, she wishes she could recall exactly what He said in reply but the words were as beautiful as the most heartfelt poetry that made her cry. 

Hmm, it was something rather that it always amazes me how those simple words roll off her tongue with such ease, and yet often it catches me unaware. She can be incandescently happy or merely contented and the words tumble out, or emotionally spent and morose and, still those sparse words fall from her lips. For me, in the early days those were easily spoken and felt, as time passed I often forget how she needs to hear them, even if she still deludes herself in reasoning the contrary. I know this to be true, when I speak them to her, the look of wonder sweeps across her face and often it is accompanied with a tear. It is not that I do not feel such breadth of passion, it is simply that I am far more economical with my emotions as I am apparently with my words. -- (Again) Omega

The Sounds of Silence

Fools said I, you do not know, silence like a cancer grows...

Even the unintentional silences can cause worry. Master was doing a multi-city hop with a couple days in each stop. Meeting with existing clients, who were pleased they hadn't been completely forgotten about, and hopefully picking up a new one or two. Master rarely goes longer than a few hours without sending a text or something, reaching out. On this particular trip, He decided to just use His phone and leave the work laptop at home. These meetings wouldn't be difficult, just more of a touch base thing. 

He had arrived at the hotel, walking past the pool area toward His room and a teen bumped into Him. No, He didn't fall into the pool, but His phone did. He recalled later that it was slow motion as He watched with disbelief His phone flying through air and splashing down and disappearing beneath the surface. The teen dove into the water and retrieved it, and apologized profusely. The teen's parents ran over, they felt terrible. He shrugged it off, annoyed yes, but it wasn't intentional. He returned to the business center and used the computer to contact the cell provider. He wasn't going to wait and see...He figured the phone was forever dead. Roughly an hour later, the provider promised a new phone would be delivered the following morning no later than 10AM. He wasn't completely adrift, Google had His appointments, addresses and phone numbers, that He jotted down. 

If only calling mouse were as simple. He tried several times and got sent to voicemail. He didn't leave a message but wondered why mouse's phone was down, He thought maybe she had forgotten to charge it or perhaps an update had her phone out of commission. Finally He left an annoyed voicemail and waited. Meanwhile at home, mouse was checking her phone constantly and sent Him several text messages and even called Him, leaving Him a message to call her. It was so unusual for Him to not respond and mouse was worried. Already tried to call the hotel to see if He had checked in, but they wouldn't say. They don't give out that information. They wouldn't even take message, because that might be confirmation He was staying there or something. 

Admittedly she didn't look at her phone while she made dinner, pizza which is messy with dough, so once the pizzas were in the oven, mouse looked again at her phone. There was a indication that she missed a call, but it never rang, well it was an indication that she had voice mail message and her finger hovered over the delete but was at the same time curious...What spam was it this time? The IRS saying she would be arrested? Microsoft security saying her windows are hacked? Social Security saying her number had been suspended because of fraudulent activity? Oooh, maybe the car warranty has expired? 

All those possibilities...mouse hit play and listened and it was Master sounding annoyed with her. He left the room number so this time she got through without a problem and He answered on the first ring. He was more than annoyed with her and it wasn't until He really listened that her phone hadn't rung ONCE that he began to sort out what was wrong. The spam filter He had installed on her phone had just blocked the number. His mood lightened considerably when He realized it and told mouse to not turn it off. He'd have a new phone soon enough. We chatted a little, mouse forgot the pizza in the oven, and yelled suddenly shit..several times in a rapid succession. 

Through the phone He could hear the smoke alarm sounding and mouse yelling to HOLD ON. He wasn't worried and waited patiently until she got back on the line. He felt bad the dinner was ruined and mouse said it didn't matter she was more concerned about Him. He spoke to the kids while mouse dealt with the burned up pizza. It wasn't really salvageable. He asked if we had something else, of course we did. Honestly the kids would happy with pancakes for dinner as well as pizza.

We chatted a little longer and He said He'd text when He got His phone up and running and asked for the home phone number (He never remembers it).

The next day around 1pm she finally got a call from Him. He was exasperated, His meetings had gone really well, but the phone was a nightmare, set up this, log into that and then the cloud download had taken forever. He wished there was an option to not just download everything and just select the few things He needed until He got home, but everything was now there. He wasn't unhappy with the new phone either. Crisis averted, everything had moved nicely and all was again right with His world.  At the airport waiting for His last flight that would bring Him home again. 

His flight wasn't delayed, He texted from His seat and mouse pulled it up on the computer. At the appropriate time she checked and double checked the traffic, got the kids and said we're surprising Daddy and picking Him up. We made good time, parking wasn't bad either (short term garage) and made a mental note of where we parked and received His text that the plane had landed safely, unaware that mouse already knew that. 

Master was surprised to see us waiting for Him as He walked through the exit, He scooped up little one and kissed mouse. The only other thing He asked, was if mouse knew how to find the car again. Well, even if she didn't know (but she did) her phone knew where the car was parked. We walked back to the car, and Master drove us all home where dinner was waiting. We had picked Him up and He still got a hot meal, He marveled at His slave's efficiency, well she learned time management from Him. 

Master feigning to wipe a tear from His eye and stated that His work here was done. 

Later, looking over His slave in the most humiliating way possible, mouse noted that He seemed different, tense, or perhaps harsh. Whatever mouse rolled with it. As He moved around her, it became clear that He was clearly pissed about something and the only saving grace was she was fairly certain it wasn't her. Abandoned, kneeling on the floor, she glanced up as He flopped down in the chair and said very simply He needed to beat something. He was up again pacing, between the closet and where mouse was. Despite being unsure what to do or say, mouse struggled to hold her tongue, part of her wishing He would take the belt to her. Not because she wanted the pain, she really didn't but because He seemed to really need to make her hurt and suffer. 

It's one of those odd moments where mouse wonders how fucked up we are that we have these strange desires that burn so ferociously that if not acted on, threaten to consume us? Since Master stopped leaving marks on mouse's body, there's one simple truth she did learn about her or perhaps came to terms with, she actually doesn't enjoy pain. Control or rather being out of control is what really makes her spin, enduring pain for His pleasure is wrapped up in that somehow. Master knew from the beginning (probably as much as her first owner did and Omega was aware from those days) that the threat pain frightens mouse in a way that makes it even better for a sadist. That's probably why, in Master's case, the relationships He's had with hard-core masochists never lasted very long. 

The inner conflict continued until rather suddenly He picked her up off the floor where she was kneeling and dragged her across the room where she struggled to try to remain upright. He practically threw her against the wall and pressed His body against her, it felt cold, angry and even rapey, as He unzipped His trousers, releasing His cock and thrusting it inside her and harshly warned her to NOT make a sound. To suggest it didn't hurt would be a lie, He's large, too large to not be gentle and while mouse was wet, she wasn't really that aroused and the pain there wasn't helping. It was when He groped her breast twisting and biting down hard on her nipple that  she called out His name. Not Sir, not Master, not even Daddy but His name. 

We don't have a safe-word, mouse is His slave and she knows this but this was beyond what she could handle mentally and physically.  

He froze and looked at her, still inside her against the wall and hard as a rock and in balls deep. His quick breathing slowed as He wrapped His arms around her and moved much slower. He was going to finish but He was more gentle about it. As her arousal increased to meet His (because this felt mighty good now), He held her as He came with a groan and continued to hold her after. Neither of us knew what to say. He didn't immediately apologize but He wasn't the same as He had been moments earlier. Master just needed to unleash His sadist side. 

Later when we did talk, what truly bothered Him the most was that up until that moment that He heard mouse say His name, He wasn't even thinking about her and was just lost in His own desire to control and inflict pain. Had He warned mouse.. 

We've done that before, but it's been far more orchestrated, like a scene that's somewhat choreographed between us. He would say certain things to let her know that it was coming and those clear signals excited her. There's been times where she's fought back, hitting and clawing at Him, as He overpowers her and subdues her. And it's fucking hot. It's every bit as deep, but it doesn't hurt the same way. More pleasure than pain, and admittedly, that's just the way mouse likes it best. 

Master said He hadn't meant to hurt or frighten her. In our dynamic mouse is property, yes, cherished, often spoiled, cared for, but still owned by Him. And mouse is comfortable with that side of things belonging to Him; being His 'thing" He can bring out or keep hidden away as His wishes. It wasn't one thing that set Master off. It wasn't work, which is at last going well, it wasn't home because that's fine too, it wasn't even mouse, but rather His own needs were growing until they couldn't be just swept away. While He was reacquainting her with her slavery to Him there were a few moments for Him that He truly enjoyed, probably too much, especially when He made her eyes fill with tears of confusion or forced her to drool and gag on Him had really excited the sadist that dwells within Him. We both like it rough.

Mr Hyde to His usual Dr Jekyll. 

Master is still ever mindful that life can go sideways at a moment's notice, but He also came to some level of terms with that. Earlier this month, Master posted on His Twitter account, "I often want my slave in ways that trouble me. I want to perversely unhinge her, I desire  her complete surrender, as much as I want her misery and tears, I also require her passion and lust." 

Last night, again mouse on the floor, ass up, tits and side of her face resting on the carpet with arms outstretched, He examined her, somewhat roughly in the way that had unsettled mouse before but spoke calmly to her at the same time. He had inserted the glass plug into her bottom that she has come to adore, because it makes her feel the most helpless and is the one that gives her that constant reminder she isn't free to simply do as she wishes. When Master lifted her chin to look at Him, He knew her head was swimming in the deep water of her submission. He removed His belt and doubled it in His hand and brought it down hard enough on her backside to make her squeal and instinctively try to shield herself. Now, He told her that she must be as silent as a mouse (that made her giggle) as He rubbed softly her bottom. He had her resume the position and told her to not move or make a sound, as He brought the belt back down seemingly harder than before and several more times in rapid succession. Silent tears feel as she tried to bite back the screams. 

He removed the plug leaving her feel empty for a few moments until she felt Him pressing against her. Burning ass and the feeling of Him was nearly too much but when He moved His hand around to manipulate her clit her body wanted to explode. He growled that she would wait and not cum, but even He wasn't sure she could control that. Quietly she begged and pleaded with Him to let her cum. Without mercy He fucked her ass and manipulated her, making her feel like His puppet on a string and engaged in a dance that felt endless. Finally, He told her to cum for Him, and her body shook as she let loose. This was the kind of orgasm that left her knees weak, that weird feeling is this love or polio? 

He eased off her back, knowing she'd be flattened if He stayed there. He rolled off and pulled her close to Him, right there on bedroom floor, He kissed and spooned His body against hers while she continued to tremble and quiver mentally unable to make words, but kissing and sucking His fingers rather instinctively, never mind she was tasting herself on that hand. The whole room smelled like sex. After He slid the plug back and kissed her back. He looked over her ass, seemingly pleased. Still red but didn't seem too bad. By this morning He said most of the redness was gone and there wasn't any bruising. In fact, He chuckled that her knees were more red than her ass. Rug burn.  The bruises He'd left behind from the other night were fading, her arm was turning more faint yellow, a 3/4 length sleeve covered it nicely, (her inner thighs and back as well were fading)  but her pussy still hurt and is probably bruised inside but feeling better than it was. 

One thing is true, Master didn't like hurting mouse that way He had the other night. He didn't like or enjoy the bruises He had caused and while He noted their presence, He hasn't really acknowledged them. Except He did ask if He had hurt her with that deep fuck and she struggled to be truthful and not diminish it because that's her first instinct. Master reminded her that she needs to be honest with Him even if the truth might unsettle Him. In the end she admitted that it had hurt and was still tender -- that He accepted and has avoided touching that area. 

As for us, Master and slave, we're doing just fine. 

Belonging To Master

Like the wind that shakes the bough
He moves me with a smile
The difficult I'll do right now
The impossible will take a little while...

It would seem to mouse that each time we take a giant leap forward in our dynamic, the only lingering thought she has is why did it take so long? Followed up quickly by why does life have to be such a bother? Each time it's not because Master doesn't care, it's because life is the way it is and contentment, coupled with momentary laziness seems to be the thing. The other times though, she needs to remember, were different. The times she had truly disappointed Him to the point where He simply didn't care and it took Him a long time for the tide to recede and to find His way back. Gladly, she would have and did often walk through fire to prove herself. He wasn't mean to her or unreasonable during that time, in spite of that He wanted to see how far He could far He could push her or maybe she liked it? Whatever, He was emotionally detached for too long and Master knew it. It wasn't intentional, but the hospital changed everything. It continued through the early pandemic when everything felt so strange, unsettling so. 

Maybe it just took us time to relearn and adjust? It's been a gargantuan blessing, especially for mouse. Anytime there's a hugely positive shift in life there's a honeymoon period where spirits run very high, then as time passes those feeling settle and that's when things tend to become too familiar and what happens after that..Maybe that's how it all begins? Innocent at first, a slip of submission or show of respect is neglected an allowed for whatever reason. If are relationship were a mountain we probably slide down more than we climb. 

Sometimes she marvels at how He manages to exist so nicely in the world, certain of His place in it and the plans He carefully lays out, while she is most contented existing in a bubble of her slavery to Him. Outside in the world, honestly, mouse doesn't know how she'd function anymore. In her career, during her far younger years it was difficult at times to slip in and out of the mindset required of her. At the time she did learn to adapt to it but never, while owned, was it extremely successful. During her period when she wasn't owned and uncertain if she could ever be again to avoid things she did throw herself into her career, probably too deeply. It was not only a way to earn a good living but her escape from feeling lonely or sorry for herself. 

Confronting fears, or being confrontational about anything is so damn difficult for mouse. Eventually, you must do, beyond coping, and work hard to understand why. Therapy has helped her more than she can admit, while we don't discuss the deep particular goings on in our relationship mouse has expressed a wish to understand Master better. He's very guarded with His emotions, sure mouse knows a few of His 'tells', His eye sometimes twitches when He's exasperated or terribly worried. His index finger will often tap when He's deep in concentration. When Master is nervous or anxious it taps harder and faster. Anger will make the fingers on that hand drum, a sound mouse hates to hear most of all. It doesn't have to be directed at her at all, just knowing He's angry about anything is something she finds unsettling. Although, when His anger isn't directed at her, He will use her rather well and that excites her. 

Angry sex is often the most fun. 

We survived His first back to work trip apart, and mouse found it both easy and challenging to endure. The house felt different with Him away, our bed felt different. He called often, and we would speak on the phone about the normal things. On the first evening, He phoned her when He returned to His hotel, He spoke about His day a little, and listened about her day with the kids. 

Then abruptly He shifted gears and asked if she missed him? Of course she had. He asked then if she really missed Him in that more sultry tone of His, and mouse could imagine Him touching Himself, yes she totally missed Him. He asked her then if she had touched herself while thinking of Him. No, in fact that particular thought really hadn't crossed her mind at all. Then He simply said, "You are thinking about it now. " It wasn't a question it was just a matter of fact. Secretly she was hoping now He'd command her. In very sexy breathless, shaky voice mouse reminded Him that He could command her now to touch herself. He reminded her of His expectation in that regard and told her to repeat it.  Almost as a cry mouse repeated that she wasn't allowed to touch herself ever and the only time she was allowed to orgasm was if He was physically making her. He asked for details and she revealed all of them. His touch was magic to her. He ended the call with the reminder that she wasn't allowed to touch herself. 

Hanging up mouse cursed Him, bastard. Hundreds of miles from Him and wet. He had told her to be a good girl and slave (When Master read this He actually laughed saying He knew full well what she had uttered, and that's why He was chuckling when He ended the call). It was only night one of three, and she had put the thoughts out of her head. The rest of the calls were nothing special to note, except for incessant asking if she was obeying Him. The constant reminder inflamed her clit and made it quiver and her pussy damp. 

When Master's plane finally landed only then did mouse strip off the sheets, immediately following the text message. One too many trips she had pulled the sheets from the bed too early, and then crushed by the fact that He was detained by whatever (bad weather, missed connection). His dress shirt she covered herself with, was finally put in with the others to to be dry cleaned. The sheets smelled like Him. In a hurry mouse checked on dinner and kept checking her phone, when He got closer, the phone alerted her and she began to rush to get a drink ready for Him. Then there was the sound of the garage door opening and she watched the front door with growing anticipation. Kids were waiting on dinner and "starrrrrrrving". Their presence annoyed her but she kept that hidden and threw open the door before His key could hit the lock. Then they swarmed looking for gifts they knew He'd return with. 

Not too much longer we sat down to dinner, He offered high praise to the cook. While the children tidied the kitchen mouse took His suitcase to the bedroom and unpacked it for Him. Standing in the doorway He said He'd have to go back in a couple weeks, and so it began. Keeping His suitcase partially packed was a standard, this time though He showed mouse how to pack His suitcase for Him and said that from now on, this was her task. He seemed cold and indifferent to everything. The praise He offered for the meal was probably more because He was hungry and the plate before Him contained food that was hot. Upon completing the task, to His specifications, mouse crept around to the study where He was busy working and sent Him a message, "Master may this slave have a handful of your nuts?" To be clear, Master always keeps a ready supply of almonds to nibble on when He gets peckish. However, from her vantage she could see Him working, looking down at His phone in a bit of a double take that made her cover her mouth to suppress the giggle. He opened it and fired off His reply: In my study NOW!" 

Her phone sounded and He knew as well as she knew how close she was and in a moment she poked her head inside. He accused her of both lurking and spying. He had her enter, close and lock the door behind her and almost at once had her on her knees. Within a few short moments she pleasuring Him with her mouth, paying a lot of attention to His nuts. All the tension from the trip He had been feeling, His posture, the way He carried Himself, since coming through the door,. It screamed stress. In a simple moment of levity mouse had disarmed the bomb that was Him. The mouth fuck was rough, but mouse adjusted to the deepness He was forcing. Drool dripped down the corners of her mouth as she tried to keep herself in check. At last she felt Him let go and the first of several streams flooded down her throat barely able to taste them, as He let out a contented groan. 

Not too much longer in our bedroom, with His nude slave cuddled up beside His still clothed body, He confided His meetings hadn't gone very well, and there would be at least two more trips in His immediate future. His only concern was how mouse would handle the absences. He didn't want pouts, misbehavior, He only wanted her strict obedience. Sure she could miss Him when He's not at home but she shouldn't make Him feel badly for earning a living. It was hard to not feel defensive when she heard His words, because she never thought she did anything like that. He said nothing to assuage the fear that she had only restating what He now expected. With mind whirling mouse gathered the courage to ask politely if she had done those things in the past? He simply replied that it wasn't appropriate for her ask. 

As much as those few words upset mouse, she also knows that we spent a very long time in vanilla-town, and now He was reasserting Himself more as her Master than Husband. It was up to her to be humble in her compliance and not worry about the past or even His current motives. This is how He wants it now and how it will be. It's a pity it took mouse nearly a week to sort it out. A week of obsessing and worry that she didn't need to do. This is what everything has been about lately. That night, ironically the night before He was going to be leaving again mouse went to Master and told Him what she realized. 

He put His work aside and pulled her into His lap and asked for her help. The pandemic has dragged on too long, work isn't for her worry about, but He needed her to be a very good girl. He needs this house to be His sanctuary away from the world, He wants His slave to pleasure Him and be extra pleasing. Problems with the house or cars are fine, but when she sent the text to Him asking for the nuts...He needed that more. He needed her good humor. Master wanted her to enchant Him and keep herself playful. Without her needing to ask Master added, if her attempts were not welcomed he would have just let her have a handful of almonds. He reminded her that words matter very much and mouse should never presume anything that he doesn't expressly say. He doesn't want to punish her, he only wants her compliance and obedience. The only question Master now had was if mouse could be a good girl for him? 

Yes, of course, it shouldn't need saying but she saw why He wanted some verbal assurances. Unsure how to frame the next question mouse did ask him if the finances were that bad. Master arched an eyebrow, he kissed her forehead and said she needn't worry about it and let Him do what He needs to do to earn a living. The best way she could help Him now is to keep up with therapy appointments, obey Him and if she was having a problem coping to come to Him right away and not allow herself to spiral out of control or wait until she felt crushed before she said anything. His eyes softened as did His tone, and He reminded her that He will always make time for her if she truly needs it. Master said that no matter what, if she ever feels the ground below her feet begin to swallow her, His arms would be there to pull her out. He just needed to know, it wasn't her job to protect Him by not sharing, but to allow Him to protect her.

Master has valid worries about mouse. He knows her too well. While physically she has recovered from the surgery and after events of late 2019, there was a period instability (she suffered some cognitive issues that are actually common after being in ICU and ventilated. that she had following all that. He had shortened His work hours and then the pandemic, and she weathered it fine because Master was around. He helped to crush those early fears with His unbeatable logic and reason, He used common sense and told her to wear a mask when she ventured out in the world. If anything He was more trapped and vulnerable so mouse had be extra careful that she didn't bring anything back home. That's probably another reason why we remained in vanilla town for so long. 

Now, Master worries that with the pandemic still being a problem but this urgency to return to normal is too strong, He worries that mouse will push herself and get lost in her head with fears and worries. He's been around for a year and has remarked more than once that mouse is far more fragile than she had been before the coma. He really doesn't worry now about getting the virus, especially since He's been vaccinated, but even before that He read enough studies to know that the best defense is to wear a mask and keep a distance from others. He remarked the meeting everyone wore masks and kept a safe distance, the room was large and well ventilated for the few of them inside. He reminded mouse He wouldn't take risks. He explained to her why airline travel was safe and even drew a diagram. 

It didn't feel right to question Him further, because Master understands things like that better than mouse can. He loves to know how things work and it often surprises her on His knowledge and knows He'll be careful. With some mild annoyance mouse took everything Master said in the spirit intended but it still bothers her that He felt the need to say it at all. The therapist often reminds mouse that feeling defensive can often mean that deep down you know there's a kernel of truth. We don't see things as they are, we see them how we are and mouse was forced to sit with her feelings for a long while. The therapist told her more than once that while she's doing better that she shouldn't be shocked or disappointed once things did begin to return normal that she might feel like she's taken a leap backward. The time in lock-down, while she's been feeling fine, has been a lengthy period of isolation. Less traffic, less people out, she does the shopping mainly when the stores are quiet. It's going to take time for her adjust. The coping skills she had been learning were suddenly put aside for a different way of handling things in the "new normal" life. Honestly, mouse has always been more of a homebody so her adjustment was probably easier than others. 

Without agreeing about anything specific the therapist aligned with Master, saying it was good to know what's coming ahead instead of feeling like you're being taught to swim by being tossed into the deep end of the pool. 

It all came together rather suddenly, mouse had to make the umpteenth trip to the grocery store one morning and the song (it's always a song)  came on the radio, Lean on Me. Without missing a beat mouse was singing along but then she began to focus on the words and realized this was what Master was asking. He was asking her to lean on Him and to help Him. Honestly it's what we've always been to each other at least usually. 

"Lean on me

When you're not strong

And I'll be your friend

I'll help you carry on...

For it won't be long

Till I'm gonna need somebody to lean on..."

Communication Breakdown

Sometimes the way we live is difficult, we have all the trappings of vanilla life, but also exist within an almost stifling world of Master/slave or more simply put, Dominance and submission. Our lives collided often in a heady mix of sexual scenes that were thrilling. Life however has a tendency to alter your world view, especially as time passes. Many things we took for granted Master determined were too risky to continue. His sadistic desires were forced to be put to bed. Then physical punishment was dispensed with. Both, at the time, made perfect sense. The hospital stay would have gone far differently had she been marked by Him. Remaining unconscious for too many days, He would have been found guilty, kept from His slave's bedside or even worse -- jailed as an abusive husband. 

We have carved out section of our lives where things usually click into place. Master still demands His slave respect Him and she does. That all said, there's been a lot of stress and slipping lately. Slipping that He's more or less allowed to happen, or seemingly enjoyed. His slave has a sharp tongue that sometimes gets her into trouble. He would warn and she would quiet, but then maybe not right away, she'd say something again. We became rather comfortable as a normal husband and wife might become after years of marriage and family. 

Except that we were never 'normal' or 'average,' were we? There were moments where we were both reminded of our former selves, but fleeting.  One evening Master asked in a moment of shear exasperation, "what the fuck is wrong with you?" and his slave ignored it. Work for him is slowly coming back and He's again becoming busy and honestly, upon reflection, the slave was bored. Every day one day bleeding into the next, morning oral, evening use...blah blah...the masochist needed a stronger hand, but didn't know how to express that so it bubbled out in surly behavior. 

Sure, she was doing all the things required of her without much complaint but there was a lacking to her quality of service. Everything was simply rote, except for on occasion when she truly surprised him and then it was back to the dull. The stretches between enchanting him grew further apart. That tether that bound Him to her was thinning. Master had decided physical punishment was off the table. Sure, He had spanked her a few times, but while stingy and painful for the slave, it just wasn't the same as being harshly forced to comply.  What she needed was to surrender, emotionally, mentally, and physically. To feel again conquered by Him.  Yet, it shouldn't be about her at all and it should only be what Master wants. 

A partial solution presented itself, when he spoke to the one sibling he still speaks with on a regular basis, and everyone decided that our kids should go for a week to visit their cousins, they could play and be kids. Since we've been locked down (them as well) it just made sense and the sibling offered to host them. When Master came to mouse and said to assist in helping them pack, she thought nothing about it. The only thing she looked forward to was maybe having a bit more time to read or perhaps go through their closets and get rid of all the clothing that no longer fit them. 

Master left with the kids in the morning, and returned in the afternoon, during that time the slave had only managed to load the dishwasher and was on the floor reading on her tablet, leaning against the sofa. When He said He was going to the study to work, she murmured a small uh huh.  This is the way it had been for weeks now. The house was tidy (not super clean but passable), laundry was caught up. Were there things she could be doing? Probably but it wasn't a big deal. Down the hall she could hear him either typing or on the phone. Of course she checked on Him to see if He needed anything, but it wasn't because He is her Master, it was just something she did to be polite -- because He's working. 

In the early evening He called for her to join Him in the study. He had her kneel before Him and silly mouse assumed we'd play or have sex, since no one is home...This was the only benefit that she could see. Master had her strip off all the clothes she was wearing and again kneel, which she did. Being nude in the house always makes her slightly uncomfortable and the door to his study was open. He asked for her to fetch her phone, tablet and the laptop she was allowed to use. When there was a hesitation, he raised his voice, "NOW." Nervously, mouse ran to gather those things nearly forgetting her unclothed state.

He turned off the cellphone, changed the passcode on the tablet and the password access on the laptop, effectively locking her out and put them all into the drawer with a lock. He said very simply things were going to be different going forward. Master didn't lay all the blame on His slave, but accepted responsibility for His part in allowing her more recent behavior to continue. He didn't explain much else but sent her to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Now, the meal had been planned for a houseful of people, rather than just for two and He said to do her best. Well, at worst she wouldn't need to cook for a few days, so she prepared the meal as she had planned. 

Master came in and watched her cook. He remarked that later that if she pleased Him orally she might earn a reward. That intrigued her, and felt confident in her ability. During dinner, which He found simply average, He had her pleasure Him.  Cock service is something the slave prides herself at, and immediately went to work, but midway, He just stopped her, saying she wasn't performing as He'd like. He stroked Himself and came on her face instead, then said for her to clean the kitchen and to not wash first. 

Cleaning the kitchen, wiping down the countertops, loading the dishwasher and everything else didn't take too long, but after He inspected it and had her re-clean the cooktop and the microwave, she hadn't used was filthy. He pulled her over His knee and gave her a few sharp swats. Then Master remarked that floors needed attention too. It had rained recently and were dingy. The cabinet on her right, still bent over His knee, had a smudge. He let her up and the exasperated slave began to clean all the things He'd mentioned muttering to herself as she scrubbed again the cooktop. The floor took the longest and when she finished she was quite tired. Again He looked about the kitchen and said she could do better but it would wait until tomorrow, He was tired and that remark made the slave scoff audibly causing Him to shoot her a look that sent a chill down her spine. 

In the bedroom, He examined her body, told her to shave her sex, but didn't really touch her much. After He inspected her again and told her to use the toilet, He stood in the doorway and watched her pee and wipe. Then he said going forward if she needed to use the bathroom, or anything in his home she would beg permission until he decided different. For now, she wouldn't be allowed any clothing, He presented her with a stack of books, on top was a cookbook that he urged her to have a look at (Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child). He pointed to the floor and told her that's where she'd be sleeping. Then He brushed His teeth and got into bed. 

All the extra pillows were gone, as was the extra blanket so she was sleeping nude on the floor with nothing in the nighttime cold house. The protests felt on deaf ears and the slave settled herself on the floor but didn't sleep very much, despite her fatigue, because she was cold. Around 5am the heat kicked on and the slave finally fell asleep only to woken by Master's foot gently rousing her. He allowed her to use the toilet and gave her the enema then He had her go through her slave positions and peppered in some yoga stretches, before telling her to put her running shoes on. No other clothing, just the running shoes and socks and led her to the treadmill where she ran, albeit slowly for 30 minutes. No brisk walking, no Netflix or tablet to pass the time. He made coffee which he drank in front of her while she ran. He shut off the machine and told her wash herself in the sink. His hardened cum was still stuck in her hair and she wanted nothing more than to shower but made the best with a bird bath in the small sink and felt no better in fact more gross. 

He had her cook His breakfast, an omelette with fruit, which she cut up and took some level of pride in making sure the plate looked nice. He looked at the plate and said she had earned a point but said nothing else, nor was it mentioned again until dinner that evening. 

Now, He invited her to kneel as He ate and began to speak at her plainly that she had lost her connection to her slavery and in her service to Him. He didn't offer much praise of her behavior of late, while not horrible, she had been doing what was required, she wasn't doing anything else. There was no pride that she was serving Him. Now, naturally, fearing she was in deep trouble mouse began to cry saying she didn't understand what was wrong. He stopped speaking, waited for her tears to stop before continuing. This wasn't correction or even punishment (although immediate corrections might be required), He firmly stated, it was simply realigning her. 

Before He had used demerits that were meted out weekly, now He was changing the focus to points. Every single thing she did for Him, things He asked or demanded of her, was now worth a point, regardless of the size or enormity of the task assigned. If her performance pleased Him she would be awarded a point, but He were displeased, a point would be taken away and she would know where she stood because He would tell her. That was it. This was all He told her and left the rest for her to sort out for herself. 

He allowed her the use of one bathroom, save for the morning enema, and at any other time during the day, she could beg His permission. Quickly mouse gathered that her wording needed to be very specific when she asked for a drink of water and he held her mouth under the faucet. "May your slave have use one of Master's drinking glasses, so the slave might drink water as she works?" was better, and all her words now needed to be precise. "Master may your slave use Master's toilet to urinate and use two squares of His toilet paper to wipe after?" Despite Him watching as she did this -- presumably to make sure she didn't steal a third square of toilet paper, when she originally asked "permission to urinate" He pointed to the large empty flower pot in the corner. Words suddenly mattered a good deal. Eventually, she added the phrasing, "if it pleases Master, may Your slave...." That wording He much preferred.

Slowly she was adjusting but it wasn't a fast process, got her face slapped lightly a few times in an instant correction for hesitations and spankings over His knee for more serious infractions. Punishments mostly occurred for making an assumption about anything where He was concerned. Master told her what to do, how it should be done and when to do it. 

Later that day He had her provide some oral service to Him again. He told her pleasure His ass, balls and cock. Now this was something mouse would do for Master, but He never really asked for it. It was more something she did when lost in that headspace of hers, where she needed to climb inside Him usually after being whipped or something like that or whipped up into a sexual frenzy. Now, he's telling her to do this and it worried her to perform her best, which of course she failed and was told to stop. He had her do some more chores which she didn't do very well although she thought she was trying. Mentally she was stuck trying to sort out what he wanted more than focusing on her tasks and eventually just assumed nothing she did was going to be good enough. 

Yet, when she delivered His lunch, she was awarded a point and she got another point for the condition of the kitchen. Having lost many points earlier, she was now at zero. Somehow that made her feel better. The day continued, gaining and losing points at His will. That evening, as she lay on the floor, restless and trying to get comfortable she began sort out what this new game was. At first she thought it was just a scene He'd cooked up but no that wasn't really it. Was it punishment? Not that either. Thinking back to what He'd said to her earlier about losing the connection to her slavery and service to Him that seemed more significant. 

The next morning, she woke again with his foot nudging her except it was close to her face and He commanded that she pleasure His toes. Again this was nothing He'd ever asked of her, but she tried and felt him deposit His seed on her back as she tried to please Him. Inspection, pee, enema, yoga, exercise, breakfast all followed and she again lost and gained points. Much later that day He had her pleasure Him orally, and adding to her further insult, instructed her on how to pleasure Him exactly (even though He has NEVER ONCE COMPLAINED). He barked commands like more tongue, suck, swirl, deeper, take it all, until she found the rhythm, then he pulled out and came again on her face and hair then instructed her hold His cock inside her mouth and wait until he was really finished. What this told her was that she wasn't worthy to swallow him, only the drips. If she was awarded a point or lost one, He never said for that particular service. 

Now, it should be noted that being without any distractions was working to clear her head, and she was beginning to understand where she had failed before. While fostering her dependence on Him and triggering that deep desire to please Him the slave was helpless. Every task she realized needed to be completed with a level of perfection that she wasn't used to providing to Him in order to earn a precious point of validation that her suffering had purpose. The points became her currency. The dim light was beginning to burn a bit brighter. As the day unfolded, she began to realize that Master wanted her passion, her nervousness, the eagerness to get it right was making her get it wrong time and again. This wasn't simply with sexual service but all service she provided to Him. He wanted her to passionately scrub the toilet because He asked her to do it. 

Normally when this task was performed, it was done to get it over with. Sticking the blue stuff in the toilet with a quick swish. Now she paid more attention to the whole commode, making sure the whole thing was cleaned. It wasn’t about spending hours just cleaning one toilet either. It was about cleaning details, like arranging the spare rolls of paper, taking care to empty the waste basket beside it. Taking a few moments to shine the handle and to tighten the lid. Just a few added details brought her to earning a point, as opposed to having a point taken away. 

He wanted her to cook for Him with enthusiasm to please Him so thoroughly. It wasn't about wowing him with a great meal, but doing it for him with a desire that He would be pleased. Taking an extra moment to make sure the plate looked pleasing to the eye, even if the flavor was lacking, it was about the effort. Taking criticism not as failures but opportunities to learn and grow. Any compliment He offered, felt like the world to her and she began to express herself to Him by kissing His hand, in profuse wordless thanks, just as a failure now sent her to His feet and grovel often vowing to do better next time He asked. 

That evening Master said she had ended the day with points and had earned a reward, He offered access to her phone for a period of time, or she could have something else, like a pillow and blanket or whatever she felt to ask for.  He had no idea but reserved the right to agree or disagree, after taking several minutes the slave asked Him for His touch, she wanted to feel that closeness, to sleep in His bed with His body surrounding her. He didn't say no, but the silence spoke for him and in the end she walked it back. Then she begged to ask some questions about these points she was earning, He looked up at her and titled His head in near amusement, and but his voice cold when He said, "ask."

Could the points be saved for a bigger reward (like being able to sleep with Him). Did the points expire, if she picked something like say the pillow and blanket, were they her's to keep or did she have to re-earn them each night? He appeared to consider her questions thoughtfully before replying, yes she could save points and yes the points exchanged for comfort were hers to keep unless she felt into point deficit. How much of a deficit, she wasn't told, but Master simply said significant.  So begging further clarifications, -1 or -2 would be okay? He slowly nodded in agreement. Wait, was this a negotiation? He told it wasn't appropriate to ask that. 

Even with the comfort of the pillow and blanket the slave still had a difficult time sleeping as her mind whirled through everything she was learning. A few weeks before, Master noticed that His slave while pleasuring Him with His morning oral service the slave looked up at Him with her mouth close to the tip of His penis and smiled at Him. The smile wasn’t just a regular smile, He later remarked her eyes were smiling and she was truly enjoying the service. It was all beginning to fit together. What He wanted from her was becoming increasingly clear. He wanted her to reconnect with her slavery, which increased her connection to Him. We had slipped into a rut. He was reasserting His dominance in a way He hadn't before. Begging for everything had become as natural to mouse as being nude all the time had become. All without a cage, a whip or even a vague harsh word from Him (save for the light attention getting far slaps and spankings that reddened her bottom but didn't leave a lasting mark), she was feeling very controlled. 

The next morning after her enema and exercise, He invited her into the shower with Him. He had her hold her hands above her head and positioned her under the shower head, so water trickled onto her. He washed His body with soap and rubbed against her, then he washed her with the residual soap. He noticed tears in her eyes as He asked for her hand and deposited a tiny amount of shampoo and watched as she wetted her hair and washed it at last, same with the conditioner and then told her to shave. That took a bit longer but she finished quickly enough. He rubbed his hand against her sex and nodded, then turned her around and bent her slightly and took her in the ass, filing her with Him at last. It excited her to at last feel worthy of something she nearly orgasmed without so much as touch or even thought for herself. Again she cried the happy tears, rejoicing and washed Him after. For the first time in days He actually looked happy with her, His golden brown eyes crinkled and called her a good girl. The look alone, even without having just using her, made her fall to her knees and kiss His feet in total gratitude. 

With the final understanding and shift in her focus, mouse found herself as His slave and happy, spending the day earning more points than she lost. Suddenly she was grateful for this lesson and thanked Him profusely. On some level she knew the clothing would be back but everything else could stay the way it was indefinitely, this thought didn't scare her but comforted her. In the end she slept really well and was awakened again with his foot, nudging her. 

It was very chilly that early morning, and He allowed her clothing as she ran on the treadmill. Then He bathed her in the tub, and toyed with her body. He said very plainly that she was no longer allowed to pleasure herself and any orgasms would come by Him or not at all. He asked if she agreed as He circled her clit with his fingers, placing pressure and making her buck against His hand. Of course she agreed and was blessed to cum. All these emotions, feelings of vulnerability washed over her constantly now, tears mostly good ones were frequent and He was enjoying it. Master mentioned she was softer now, emotionally, and He said more than once this was how it was going to be. Another day of earning points, and He at last, invited her into His bed and allowed her the privilege of worshiping His body and that she did without any hesitation and she couldn't say that her mind was in any place except in that she loved Him and wanted to show that love for Him. He was thrilled with her and came deep in her throat. 

In the morning she woke beside Him as He stirred in the bed and she felt Him pressing between her thighs which were opened for Him at once. He had been pushing her legs apart throughout the night, wanting her open in case He wanted her. Now Master did, and rubbed His cock against her slit as her wetness increased, until He moved her up on all fours and took her from behind. Feeling her hole filled with Him and she cried as He controlled her movements until she was full of Him. There's something when He uses her for His own pleasure and enjoyment that touches something deep within her that is hard to define. It's deep feeling of being useful to Him. When He takes her with His weight holding her down facing her, feeling overpowered by Him, and He begins that slow slide into her, and that first slowly tentatively need to touch Him. That hand of her's moving across to the small of His back and wonders if He will allow it or growl at her and the anticipation of either response. The feelings of electricity coursing through every inch of her being as she realizes she's allowed to hold onto Him. Writing and undulating, her legs encircling  around Him and arms pulling Him even closer. Master's arms around her so tight that she can scarcely breathe, and the moment when her tears begin to fall. Not from pain or pleasure that He knows how to bring, but from the shear volumes of emotions that she can't control or explain. Those are the moments she feels that she truly belongs to Him alone. If she's painfully honest with herself, it was like that when before she was actually His. This time, after spending days sleeping on the cold floor away from His warmth, she felt nothing but genuine happiness that she was again understanding and worthy of Him. 

Still doing the now more routine of peeing, enema, and inspection, followed by exercise, He allowed her clothing (she overdressed for the occasion) and we went out grocery shopping because our time alone was coming to an end but this new thing He was doing was far from over. 

We needed food and other snacks for the returning children, and slave mentioned their closets. Master surprised her by saying that they're old enough to perform that task but the slave should check the garments so that no items unworthy for charity would be donated and keep a detailed list for our tax records. 

He also said that going forward, we would be spending more time in our bedroom in the evenings, where slave could be nude at His feet without any worry. The slave listened carefully to each word He spoke, digesting them, and then asked if she should continue to beg permission for everything. He said while He was in the house, yes, she should continue, except for permission to use the toilet, which He believed was too taxing for Him on an ongoing basis. Making an argument, briefly to the contrary Master held His ground on that issue. Privately she should only approach Him respectfully and beg permission to use whatever item she needed to use and leave Him to decide if she could use it. 

When assigning cleaning tasks He often included the words, "You may use whatever is needed to complete the task." Only then it occurred to the slave the purpose of His words and she exclaimed out loud, "Oh!" He smiled when she explained the outburst. At the supermarket, we walked through the whole store, and He approved of every item in the basket. A few items, He reached for a cheaper option, and the slave gently explained respectfully that the name brand was a better value in that case. Many times she'd tried the generic brand and either no one liked it or it didn't work in the recipe. This was a rare thing, but often the case. Master appreciating knowledge asked further questions, in this case a package of generic string cheese and mouse explained that no one, including Master, ate it because it was a bit too salty and had a rubbery texture. 

Master acquiesced and put the name brand into the cart. This odd and profoundly respectful exchanges continued throughout the shopping experience and even as we loaded the car. Master remarked that the children were spoiled and the slave countered that the most expensive food in the fridge or house, is one that goes uneaten and added that we threw away far less now. 

That last bit pleased Him a good deal, as even He's noticed our garbage can less full than it used to be. Back at home the slave asked permission to reorganize the refrigerator and He agreed and even offered to help. Master loves organizing anything. As we emptied shelves mouse cleaned thoroughly each one and when it was done the refrigerator looked new. The slave thanked Master for the help. He began unbuttoning her blouse, and pulling down her skirt. No one was home yet, He reasoned. The love she felt was bursting out of her and again her eyes sprinkled with tears expressed her love to Him in offering her mouth. We kissed long and hard for the first time in honestly longer than she realized (maybe longer than we both realized). That intimacy that ebbs and flows was returning. 

Reflecting on this period of our lives, mouse again feels tightly contained, not in a suffocating way but like when she wore the corset, at first it chaffed a bit but then she grew to feel like it was a perpetual hug that was reassuring. The "tag" for this post was also carefully chosen, instead of "correction/punishment mouse chose "Restoring Balance" because that more closely explained what went on.  Another thought does persist, is this the beginning of our third act? 

Wouldn't it be Lovely?

Or would it?  In an effort to explain, we must start at the beginning. Years and years ago, at the behest of a friend, mouse downloaded the book Outlander and probably read a few paragraphs and since it failed to scratch any itches she had, promptly forgot all about it. Equally likely it was pushed aside for something more overtly smutty. As much as Master has tried (and repeatedly failed) to foster interest in more classic literature, mouse has always gravitated toward smutty bodice ripping stories that lack any real substance (in a literary sense) but filled with steamy sexy scenes. It's also rather embarrassing when people ask, as they invariably do, 'have you read any good books lately?' 

The reply is generally no, offered without much consideration. Naturally this has led her to be, at times, sharply admonished, as though a lack of interest in reading is akin to everything that's wrong with the world. While they might be apt, mouse has never gravitated to reading much and goes through lengthy periods without even thinking to open a book. That alone is enough to give friends of her's a strong case of the vapers, as they could never imagine themselves without a book close at hand. 

Magazines are something she does actively read, mostly for the photographs and on occasion the story. Although, even those become incredibly annoying to her. Anyone who has looked up a recipe online might understand or even agree that one doesn't need a lengthy meandering tale of the writer's grandmother's kitchen and a hundred artful photographs of their perfect ingredients in their perfect kitchen that leaves one haplessly scrolling for an eternity to find the damn recipe. For a news article, honestly all mouse wants to know is the basics (who, what, where, when, how and why). One will often find a vivid destruction of how someone dressed for work when they woke in the morning, or how the cobblestones felt under their feet as they walked...all the fluff that has zero to do with the actual story. Some 20 paragraphs in you suddenly learn they heard of the event from a "friend" (or relative or second-cousin's hairdresser...), who writes this stuff? Stephen King? In her much younger years, mouse did read a lot of Stephan King and grew increasingly annoyed that sometimes an entire chapter of the story was wasted building a character one might assume some importance to the tale, then vanishes completely only to pop up again when they're killed off (probably horribly) later in the book. 

Ok enough of trying to validate the lack of interest in reading, let's simply push on before mouse becomes guilty of the very thing she truly hates, because there is a point. Each morning Master and slave exercise side by side, while Master's treadmill is a fancy one (His has a screen that shows landscapes, not only providing something nice to look at, but also influence the way the machine behaves. Going uphill, the machine inclines, or running on a beach might cause the machine create its own drag). As opposed to the one His slave uses that is quite simple and completely manual. It hasn't a screen so early exercising was a slog for her, unless you count the blob that eventually completes a circle to indicate a quarter mile has been traveled. Incline is also manual, so mouse just raises and lowers it with a touch of the button. Master decided it would be ok for mouse to watch something on her tablet. For a long while it was the show, "Call the Midwife." a very wholesome story set in the early 1960s district of London about a group of women who work as midwifes but eventually ran out of episodes and needed something else to watch. 

This brings us back around to Outlander and began watching that. Roughly 20 minutes into the first episode, it began to feel vaguely familiar, like something she'd seen before. After the workout a quick google search revealed it was a series based on...A novel. How stupid was mouse? Quick search on the book app found the book and began reading later that evening. Now with a reason to read, in an effort to stay ahead of the story unfurling on the Netflix app, mouse began to carve out time to read (of course with Master's blessing). The book and television series are both enjoyable (there are some differences but it doesn't seem too bothersome). The gist of the story is a woman living in post world war two period is somehow transported to the late 1700s. Setting aside that mouse should have continued reading this long ago, since it does tick a huge box for her. One of the first books mouse ever read on her own was Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder and long held fantasies of milking a cow before school. Escapism maybe for the little mouse who was raised in a bustling noisy city, fast forward decades and the odd fascination continued with her becoming enthralled with stories about things were long ago. Upstairs/Downstairs (which she saw on PBS) was the first time mouse remembered seeing servants and having them as part of the story (often with the focus on them more than the upstairs counterparts). Then in the early 2000s there was show (think it was again on PBS, really mouse should speak to Master about donating more) called something like 1900s House, where a group of people give up their everyday modern life to live as people would have in 1900. Each week mouse would watch and imagine her being transported to the past. 

Yes, we can all safely agree that mouse certainly should have given Outlander far more a chance. 

It's also possible why mouse enjoys being at the Lake House. No TV, we usually bring our own movies, the internet is painfully slow or not working, cellphone connections are spotty. We have a landline so we can make phone calls on a real phone that hangs on the kitchen wall and no answering machine. Until we more recently got a clothes dryer, our clothing was hung outdoors. It's still preferred unless the weather is dicy. Clothes last longer dried that way.  Sure we have running water, electricity and most of the creature comforts. What we don't have, we honestly don't really miss all that much either. 

The main home has all the gadgets and are highly dependent on electricity. We have no room for a clothesline and it's against our HOA. Not sure why, but it seems odd considering we're just a block away from a rural road. Yet the rules specifically state no domestic farm animals, no clotheslines and no fences in front of the houses. The semi-rural area has changed a lot over the years, going from people riding horses, keeping chickens to people...well, not. The people with the space to keep horses, cows and chickens are nearly all gone now, having sold their land, leaving us to bear silent witness to those charming homes being knocked down and replaced by more houses, apartments, mini shopping areas...

It also begs to wonder if as people look to being more "green" and seem to care more about the planet, if small changes like clotheslines might make a comeback? 

As much as we enjoy our busy modern life, mouse still at times remained enthralled with the idea of living with far less. While she has no desire to abandon all the creature comforts this modern age provides, part of her wonders how it truly would have been. Naturally, she also accepts that today time travel to a bygone age is completely out of the question even if possible. To exist at time before penicillin or before Master's insulin is completely unthinkable. 

What about the people who do it today? There's a youtube community of people choosing to live their lives off grid. They produce content that also scratched mouse's itch, until she began to notice how well produced the videos were, with fancy introductions and some even have their own theme song. How do they upload those onto the web she wondered? How much time is spent editing? How do they even edit? Do they have someone who does it all for them? Some relative or friend who records the video and edits it at their home and later uploads it onto the web for them? In other words, these videos were not shot with a wiggly phone camera and just uploaded without any edits. 

So, where does this leave mouse? Stuck in the present, grateful for whatever she has! Or right back at the beginning, with maybe a better appreciation for the written word. All this daydreaming and time spent thinking how lovely it might be, has led her back to more basic way of living and cooking. One common thread that she only just realized thanks to Master, all these things involved a more organic (by organic she means natural) cooking and cleaning. Master suggested perhaps that's where the focus should be more about. Although the focus has been more on cooking from "scratch" but there's always room for more improvement. 

Day Dream Believer

Life is certainly odd. While doing the daily cleaning it suddenly occurred that she was lost in deep thought of Master. We had a wonderful morning, with everything clip-clopping along. During His morning oral service mouse took her time pleasuring Him, long strokes with her tongue and making brief moments of eye contact to let Him know that she was likely enjoying this as much as she hoped He was.  He did enjoy it. Together we exercised going through our workout paces (although His slave is much slower than He), He showered while mouse went off to warm His towel and make the morning pot of coffee. For that morning, she didn't feel the least bit of self consciousness wearing the thin robe as she cooked breakfast. The robe, while providing nice coverage so that nothing shows through,  clings to every curve. 

Breakfast moved along nicely without a single hiccup, and it wasn't until later that the slave stood in the bathroom polishing the mirror that she realized she was completely preoccupied with thoughts of Master. Dressed in her "uniform" mouse just moved through the day with a few extra chores. While being completely uncertain what would happen next, mouse took great comfort in knowing exactly what she'd be doing for the next quarter hour and each quarter hour that followed. With each movement the plug buried in her rear-end, made its presence known. 

It would be another hour before lunch and since she'd already checked with Master, who was working from home this day, to see if He needed anything. He didn't and that was slightly dismaying. Naturally, she understands that there are many ways of being useful to Him. Children were busy since Friday is cleaning day in preparation for our weekend, no "work" of any kind is done until Sunday. The homeschool schedule lends itself nicely to this four-day study arrangement. While Master said He's undecided to continue homeschool once the virus is controlled, He has noticed that the children are doing quite well with this arrangement. Also, they're far more helpful now around the home, often performing tasks they know should be completed without being told to do them. 

Moving through the chores the slave found her groove, prepping the evening meal with the kitchen bustling and music playing. In truth we have settled into a great routine and things are just humming along. It's been wonderful. It's been nearly a whole year since all this began and Master hasn't been busy for a long time now and honestly mouse has gotten used to calling on Him when she needs something at the top of the cabinet.  Now, work at last is picking up for Him. He's grateful for it and mouse is happy He's happy. Cocktails at 6, dinner at 7, in bed by 10:30 and up at 6, rinse and repeat. 

It was when delivering His lunch (turkey sandwich with lettuce, tomato, mustard, a little red onion, salad with cherry tomatoes, red onion, diced red pepper, field greens and homemade vinaigrette. Iced tea served in a tall collins glass with fresh mint and lemon slice) mouse noticed Him. Master was seated behind His desk reading a file, then leaned back, took off his reading glasses tossing them on top the open file and ran His fingers through His hair. Frustration? Anger? Probably the former, but since He tends to maintain a tight grip on His emotions, it's often hard to tell. Yet, mouse has seen that look maybe a million times (some of those actually directed at her) and each time she marvels at it. When He looks up, seeing her standing there, tray in hand, He always gives the same look, bashful with a slight smile, as though caught.

We discuss the meals, shopping and daily routines. It scratches all the service related itches the slave could possibly have, with benefits. Letting Him know that dinner will be on time, which chores are completed, and what's left to be done. Not sure He cares as much as He claims to, but mouse always informs Him.  Begging Him to enter the bed is another odd pleasure for the slave-wife. Reminding her that her position isn't just a given ordinary thing but rather dependent on Master. 

More open displays of her submission are far more frequent, not only because we're homebound, but because He also believes it's right. These aren't overt or bothersome but little things that feel very natural to us both, like mouse seated on the floor by His feet, or fetching His beverages. In bed, of course, there are times where Master will whisper to the slave that she will surely suffer tonight and takes her roughly as He pleases. It is usually painful and extremely hot. As much as mouse might protest or even beg Him to stop, telling Him it hurts, her body every single time betrays her and the orgasm is usually explosive. 

"Slave, tell me again how you did not enjoy it." He'll say with a grin afterward. The bruises left behind aren't bad, muscles ache but it always feels amazing the next day too. Damn Him. Naturally, she smiles and thanks Him. After, wrapped in His arms we talk a little about our day. Usually, we're so contented that sleep claims us both quickly.  

We'd like to say that weekends are different, but Friday begins much like every morning, with oral service, exercise, lots of cleaning, a good meal, early bedtime and lengthy sex. Saturday, no cleaning, no exercise, usually some sort of outing, like a drive or trip to a park (if we can social distance). In the evening, we watch a movie. Sunday mornings usually includes a fancy breakfast and big family style dinner. The week's meals are planned, shopping, errands and chores are all laid out for the upcoming week.