Look around
Leaves are brown
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter
All mouse is and everything she could be, is wrapped up in that moment of surrender.
Look around
Leaves are brown
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter
Some things will never change...
There's been a need to discuss something (or maybe confess?) about how punishments are handled today. Some might think mouse is just so perfect there's never a need to punish her -- well, they'd be totally wrong. If anything punishments or corrections are even more frequent since Master retired. Maybe He just notices when mouse has misbehaved, or perhaps He always knew but since He wasn't around let certain things slide? Honestly, she cannot say. What she can say is that He's even more exacting than ever. He wants things done His way. Some of this is because now with us living out in far more rural area there's more need to be organized. One thing about Master, He wastes nothing, not a step or even word.
Some might recall in 2019, when mouse had the appendicitis and was in a coma, one small gift Master was exceptionally grateful for was that He hadn't marked the slave. Life can go sideways at a moment's notice, so He vowed to never mark the slave. However, there are times when He feels it necessary to inflict a more direct punishment, it's equally amazing how He can inflict pain without leaving a lasting mark. Most of the time anyway. Occasionally, He will leave a mark (or marks) behind and in that case mouse understands this means she will NOT under any circumstance be allowed to leave the home, cook, do any cleaning that involves ladders or anything that might cause an injury. Mostly she's to sit, she might be allowed some light exercise under His supervision but the slave isn't allowed to handle anything sharp.
Now, lets be clear, for the most part, mouse rarely cuts herself while cooking (or burns herself) but Master doesn't want to take any chances so if her infraction was so great that it required say the cane then her punishment continues until the marks fade (usually a few days). During those times, she is meant to suffer in silence and be extra attentive to Master. He might use her for His own gratification, but not for her enjoyment or pleasure.
Punishments affect her deeply, probably since they're really about failures, specifically her failure to be slave she knows He expects her to be. The slave He knows she can be. Since we have no designated area to delve out punishments His bedroom (the Master bedroom) became the place where those take place. Discreetly placed heavy gage eye hooks remind her of transgressions. In that Master bedroom, like a dungeon mouse isn't allowed to speak anymore. Or wear clothing, which must be removed upon entry (even if she's only there to make the bed, or clean the attached bathroom). He has a camera installed to make sure that mouse follows that simple rule. Master has a home theater type thing with surround sound which does mask out sounds but He expects slave to be as quiet as a mouse. He will gag her for serious punishments, but otherwise she's simply expected to keep quiet. The bed is His, and if He chooses He can invite mouse to join Him. Except after punishments, then she is expected to sleep on the floor beside the bed.
Well, then there's punishments where a mark is left behind, then she's not allowed to be in His presence at all. In years past she might have been caged, but now she's simply not allowed in the bedroom at all, except for brief supervised moments. Good girls get to sleep in Master's room, bad girls do not. Taking Himself away from her has a profound effect on her, usually sending her in a spiral of depression. That whole period she knows she's unworthy. Nothing will change that except time. That time can stretch out as long as Master wishes too. He controls that. Master knows how long a mark will last, most last a day or two, deeper ones can last a week or even more.
The punishments can be stacked, depending on time or if it's something she is fully aware is fucking wrong. Like leaving the house without a detailed shopping list, creating a working menu, or a failure in housekeeping duties Or forgetting her cellphone if she's out on her own -- that's the worst ever. None of this happens often but when she does it sends her into a panic. He expects a text message when she arrives at the destination and again before she leaves. He knows in advance the route she will take and how long it should take. When He's with her (which is often these days), she doesn't need to worry as much, except that the list is ON HER PHONE. So leaving the house then, without a list, knowing fully well shopping is involved and trying to "wing it" isn't acceptable. Even if she does remember everything she will be punished. He will never punish her if we decide to just pop into a store to pick up something like for dinner or whatever. He's not unreasonable.
Small infractions can just mean corner time, larger ones can mean corner time and she's expected to hold a coin with her nose and stand perfectly still so that the coin doesn't drop. He doesn't need to be punished with her for that since He has a camera installed that might or might not be motion activated. Those are things she's not allowed to ask about. He will never answer a question He finds inappropriate. No, bad punishments are when she knows she's screwed up big time and for some stupid reason decides that she doesn't care. The truth is that she does care and hates to fall short in her slavery and hates herself every time she does. Suffering through the punishment period is very hard both mentally and physically.
A lie of any kind is fast way to get punished, even a gentle lie is very bad in His eyes. Now, if she planned a special thing for His birthday, or is for Him, He won't ask details to ruin a surprise (unless He's unsure He'd like the surprise) but He expects the slave to answer Him honestly. He won't ask questions about Amazon boxes that arrive around holiday time (He could look at the account if He wanted to and probably does). We do actively discuss what we are buying, how much we expect to spend and other things that are common to every couple.
He tracks just about every aspect of our life together, He knows exactly how many minutes she spends exercising, He knows how long it'll take type this post, how much time she watches videos on TikTok (cooking and cleaning stuff is all she's allowed -- or maybe a cute dog or cat video) anything political is strictly forbidden. Actually that's the only social media she's allowed, only to watch, like and save videos other's create -- He doesn't allow her to leave a comment. He's just as protective as He's always been. In some ways even more so -- in other ways not.
*********
We had planned to meet that other couple we know, but it didn't work out. Instead we had to attend a funeral for friend of Master. The death wasn't unexpected and cancer sucks -- we just didn't know when. So when the call came we were both unsurprised and yet disappointed the one time we had made plans...
Meh, what can you do? He called right away and they "met" virtually to talk but that was it. Instead Master booked a hotel and we all traveled for the funeral (our kids and their kids are friends). We expressed our condolences, offered whatever comfort we could and drove back home still in our funeral attire. It was probably for the best we didn't get to go since it probably would have only served to remind mouse how different our lives are and caused a small pang of jealousy (or maybe regret?).
Our Thanksgiving was good and our home filled with family and close friends, we broke bread, laughed and reminisced and we suppose it's how it should be.
We hope your holiday finds you warm, healthy and abundantly happy!
Mr. Blue Sky please tell us why
You had to hide away for so long (so long)
Where did we go wrong?
Well, when this post was begun the blue sky was gorgeous, then the clouds rolled in and we returned to cool temperatures. It's ironic that in a month we'll probably be collectively complaining about the excessive heat and dreaming of autumn. Maybe we're just all ungrateful? That's been the new motto, to be grateful for everything. Expressing gratitude for the little and big things and even being grateful for the not-so-good since there are always lessons to be learned from those too. Master is doing well, and mouse is feeling tightly controlled. There's a lot of comfort in that feeling.
It's not lost on mouse that she's been exceedingly quiet of late. It's not for the lack of wanting to post, rather the good time to sit and contemplate what to say. Here's how it goes: mouse will be doing some task, and the thought will pop into her head that she should blog about this. Then much later, she's settled with a glass of iced tea, chores completed and reaches for the laptop only to discover it's dead. Sighing she plugs it in, and goes about some chores -- it's easy to find something to do.
Later Master asks why is the laptop plugged in and mouse stares at the now fully charged light and mumbles something or other about the blog. Then a week passes another idea creeps into her head and the cycle repeats. At last a spare moment presents itself, and then mouse stares at the blinking cursor. What do you say? Does anyone even care? Or has this blog been long forgotten? Has everyone moved on?
Our relationship looks much the same as it always had. We've changed though. Life in the country, fresh eggs, family close by -- it's weird and comfortable for us. Outwardly our lives must seem vanilla. Away from prying eyes, then it's different. We have new rules that we live our lives by. Winters are long, dark, gloomy, cold rainy, snowy and windy. We decided that we're taking advantage of the good weather (or somewhat good weather) every chance we can. Master has a stack of books to read, He said He'll read when it is storming and mouse has an endless supply of magazines to look at. We've been working hard getting everything prepared for winter also. Master has readied the house, had the wood stove and fireplace cleaned, our outside yard/garden projects are winding down. Leaves are dropping and when mouse complained about them being tracked into the house, Master shushed her reminding her now, it's the leaves, next will be the mud and snow. He's got a point, at least the leaves can be picked up.
We've taken long walks (almost dare we say hikes) in the area, and Master enjoys fishing in the nearby river. All too soon, winter will be upon us so, we're just determined to soak up every bit of outside until we just can't anymore. Soon the ceiling fan will be turned off and extra blankets will be piled onto the beds (which is a reminder to mouse they need to be washed). Next week, we're taking a couple days and visiting a couple Master knows, they're Master and slave but their lives are very different, they don't have kids or family around and are able to live their dream life.
Maybe that'll be something to write about when we return?
The heart has its beaches, its homeland and thoughts of its own.
Wake now discover you are the song the morning brings...
It's not all sunshine and lollipops. While most days the struggles are held at bay there are moments, since Master's retirement from His workaday life, that have been a struggle for His slave. Sure, He smiles far easier than He used to, cracks jokes, even dumb dad jokes that annoy the kids. He isn't stressed, His focus is now trained on other things. He reads more, takes walks, plays the piano for fun and gets plenty of use of His favorite possession, His slave. Being home affords Him more opportunity to make use of His slave, corner time is better supervised without distractions of business. There's something about being made to stand in the corner of the room, skirt hiked up with her flaming red, freshly spanked bottom exposed. The humiliation felt seemed to be doubled now, although the slave isn't sure why. Perplexed by this, she sat quietly with the thoughts, 'why does this bothers her more now?'
His hand brought her thoughts quickly back around to Him, He had asked a question but lost in her deep chasm of thoughts she had missed it. This time the wooden dowel swished on her backside, making her yelp with surprise and pain. That will leave a mark surely at least for a few hours. Tears welled in her eyes, as she croaked out an apology. The question was repeated (something unrelated to punishment), and was answered. Master then released her from the wall, sending her to the kitchen to clean. Before leaving mouse stands in front of Him with her head lowered, thanking Him for the correction, assuring Him it will not happen again (and it won't).
He waved her away, picked up His book and began to read. Washing the breakfast pots and pans and rather carelessly, mouse continued to ponder the punishment and remained completely unaware that Master had entered the kitchen. He grabbed her wrist and squeezed asking her curtly what the fuck was wrong with her?! The action made her again yelp in pain and she began to cry. For the second time that day, she was bent unceremoniously over His knee and paddled this time with a silicone spatula. Falling to the floor at His feet she groveled, pleading that she will be more careful.
Getting lost in her own head was no longer allowed. There were outlets more appropriate, a journal she can write down those feelings, she could blog about it, she could as always, discuss it with Master. He will not abide with her silence and lack of detail to whatever task performing. Now to be clear His tone rang with frustration and no anger was detected. The tears that fell were very real, her remorse truthful, but the explanation was not forthcoming. How can she express what she doesn't understand? Perhaps it's not to be understood and rather accepted?
Instead of making an obvious empty promise the slave remained at His feet sputtering apologies and said she didn't know why her focus was so off. Master wasn't sure if He was getting to the meat of the problem, but He felt, at last there was real honesty coming from His slave. He said nothing more but sent slave to resume her task, and making her rewash everything.
Feeling only slightly resentful of this order, mouse began to rewash each pot and pan and only then noticed how negligent she had been in her previous wash. Fresh remorse kept into her heart as she scrubbed nearly violently each pot until they gleamed like new. Much later, mouse sat quietly in front of the blank journal pages and began to write. Perhaps it was the distance from the events of the morning but some clarity came to her at last. The corner time punishment does feel more humiliating than from before and the reason was simple. Master's focus was on her alone. There was no familiar click-clack of His fingers on the keyboard. at that time, she was an ornament to be glanced at, not to be stared at and mentally examined.
At times it does feel like He's boring into her soul. Does she even have a soul? If she did, He claimed it long ago or it was simply given up to Him. He's her higher power. No matter how He says He doesn't like it when she says that -- to her -- it is simply truth. In the Master bedroom, nude, writing at the table she hears Him come in and closes the door behind Him. He goes into the adjacent bathroom and readies Himself for bed, brushing His teeth, gargling, then emerges with His bathrobe and slippers on. He scoots the slave onto the floor and begins to read what she wrote. He swivels on the bench seat and opens His robe, His cock is flaccid but easily awakened as she employs her mouth.
"Rub yourself" Master says, making mouse pause for a moment.
"If it's all the same, Master, would prefer to not and just offer you pleasures." Eyes briefly raise to meet His and quickly fall to that beautiful cock before her.
He seems to ponder that for a moment or three and repeats the command to rub her clit whilst sucking Him...
To be continued?
"Comes the lightning of the sun
On bright unfocused eyes
The blue of yet another day
A springtime wet with sighs
A hopeful candle lingers..."
We have lots of snow, so much it makes getting "out" difficult. Getting into town to collect our mail, which is now done weekly if possible. Grocery shopping are saved for the days between. Tuesday last was a glorious day, bright, sunny and just made you feel as light as could ever be. The sun so bright it blinded especially with that crisp white backdrop. Millions of stars filled the night's sky, until the clouds rolled in and the gray returned.
We didn't waste any time, getting up that morning we showered and dressed quickly for the day. Master set to work clearing the driveway, while mouse prepared breakfast for everyone. Spinach omelette for Master and slave, oatmeal with dried fruit and frozen blueberries for the children. The breakfast table set, the morning music courtesy of Electric Light Orchestra -- Mr Blue Sky, had everyone tapping their feet. The slave slipped the pre-packed lunches into the girls book bags and then heard the horn of the school bus approach to its stop by the main road.
No time for playing around (normally, after the house was empty, Master would have slave remove her bathrobe, suck His cock under the table and follow the instructions to rub vigorously her own clit but not to any conclusion for her). Master was grabbing the breakfast basket full of bread, rolls and whatever else mouse had made the precious days and pulled on His boots, saying He'd be back soon, hopefully with eggs. His sibling who lives quite close (roughly a half mile away-- maybe longer) and keeps chickens. Without a lot of fanfare, mouse murmured a quick "be careful on that footbridge Sir," and gave Him a quick kiss. Breakfast table was quickly cleared, dishes washed up, and tidied when He returned with 4 dozen eggs, which mouse divided by size. Smaller eggs are saved for meals, larger eggs are divided up for baking and the largest ones are usually hard-boiled. We know they were all recently collected so after they're washed up and placed in cartons we just reuse, mouse put on her coat and grabbed her extensive shopping list.
He was finishing up His coffee but didn't linger over it, the way He'd normally do. He walked out to the SUV and started it up, warming it, while mouse double checked the list and freezer. This was going to be a huge haul since we haven't gotten out for a while. After deciding the best use of the time, Master drove to our first stop. After the third stop, we stopped for a quick lunch, before continuing. We had in all three boxes and 8 bags filled with groceries. We do not want to think about how much every item costs.
Then when we returned home, came the unloading and then arranging into preparation groups. Fresh veggies are washed and prepped. Some are frozen for easy meals, others are prepped into containers in the fridge. Meats are portioned out, wrapped, labeled and put into the freezer. It usually takes a couple hours to get everything restocked and organized. Nothing is wasted anymore, bottoms of celery, herbs, whatever are tossed into a bag and used for stocks. Same with chicken bones, placed in a special bag and frozen until mouse needs more chicken stock or wants to make a soup.
Notes are made about laundry to do (for the next day). Master went down to collect our mail and pay any bills. We accomplish much, and then time for a break before the school bus returns. Master in His chair motions for slave. who kneels and crawls to Him. Removing His boots, kissing His feet. Feeling her own want, as she makes her way up His legs to His cock and kissing its tip before sucking the head. Soon her mouth is full of Him, and she feels His hands guiding it further toward her throat. If she chokes, it's only because He wishes her to and He wants her to be slobbery, because there were lots of deep thrusts. Down there her pussy because wet and her clit throbs but this isn't about her. It's all about Master and somehow that just makes her want Him all the more.
Eagerly she swallows the ropes of thick cum without the benefit of tasting or savoring Master's flavor. His cock is too far down her throat and she feels like a sword swallower in a circus. After mouse crawls off and get's a towel to clean off Master of her drool and washing His shaft with her tongue. Then she kneels before Him with her head lowered, awaiting a word. Dismissed, she rises and walks to the bathroom to clean herself up as she can hear the school bus. Within minutes the front door bursts open and the house is filled with noisy chatter. Suddenly, mouse regrets that she didn't beg Master to use the belt on her anything to quell the throbbing going on down below. Dinner is already prepped and it's an easy meal (Costco Chickens, mashed potatoes, fresh green beans, salad), so all that's left might be a treat for dessert. Master cuts up the chicken and mouse cooks everything else. After dinner the women folk clear the table, while Master enjoys a cup of coffee and cigar on the porch. The rest of the evening mouse is in the kitchen, either cleaning up, ironing, or knitting while the dishwasher runs. In the den area the girls are quietly reading until bedtime, as is Master. It's nice because the kitchen is also the warmest room in the house so mouse can remain in her bare feet. Before the girls go to bed, they say goodnight to mouse and we chat a little about their lunches for the next day. Left over chicken, garlic naan, hummus, veggies, fruit, and a thermos of soup are on their menu.
The lunch boxes are placed in the fridge and finally the light is turned off. At Master's feet, He instructs her to get ready for bed, so off she goes. Undressing, drawing a bath and washes trying to not pay any mind to her throbbing sex. Master enters just as she's nearly finished bathing. He inspects His slave quickly, surely making note of her clit and slick wetness. He rubs it with a finger and when He notes His slave becomes greedy He takes it away. In the bedroom, He has mouse present her hands and He binds them, then slips the dog collar around her neck, He said she was a bad girl for rubbing her sex on His fingers (no, He's not really mad, but never misses an opportunity to remind His slave where her place truly is). He tethers her to the wall, watches as she curls up on the huge dog cushion and covers her with a blanket. Hearing His footfalls and the sounds of bed as He climbs in, moving around the pillows. Sleep is complicated for her, as she contemplates gratitude. It seems odd. At some point during the night she feels Him uncovering her and unbinding her hands and then the collar is removed. Sleepily she waits, then she hears Him say, "come". In bed He uses her like a pillow, cautioning her to get all mischievous.