Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Chores

My Chores

Daily: 

Scoop dog poop from the yard
Get in the mail
Make the bed
Make dinner/breakfast/other meals as needed, serve meals
Wash dishes
Keep the house clean (which things I do which day are mostly up to me, as long as I'm getting it done)
Laundry
Errands, there are usually one or two per day that involve driving places and/or phone calls
Make tea, serve tea

Assigned Day Chores:

Tuesday: 
Clean the fridge
Plan meals for the week
Grocery shopping
Exercise

Wednesday:
Wash all sheets, remake beds
Work dog

Thursday:
Exercise
Take the big trash can out to the road

Friday:
Work dog

There is nothing assigned for Monday specifically, and Friday is light, so those are now usually my big cleaning days, when I tackle a project.  

The bathrooms get cleaned at least briefly every day.   I also sweep/vacuum/dust/pick up items around the house almost every day too.

There is nothing assigned for Saturday or Sunday as I typically spend those days serving Master, or we do something all together.   The cleaning, cooking, dish washing and laundry goes on then regardless, though.  

Punishments for not doing chores:  Varies from some to none depending on Master's whims and the reasons for not having them done.   

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

The Hamster Wheel I Call My Brain

I have a fun little story.  Because I'm bored and don't feel like dusting.  

So Master has this new ritual I mentioned before, where I'm supposed to tell him every night how he could do better, how he could be a better Master.  I have this awesome license and opportunity for grievances.  And a huge responsibility, because what if I tell him something and I'm wrong?  
However, there is one huge but, and not just on my seat.  But what if he doesn't like my feedback/ideas?  Then what?

This time I said "The rules seem awfully lax and wobbly this weekend, and it is giving me anxiety".  

And he said "This better not be about the damn salad again."  

Ok, it actually was going to be about the salad, but I quickly thought of another example and told him that instead.  And he said the rules were relaxed because he thought I looked sick, and he was sick, and the kids were sick, (he didn't feel like having salad anyway), and I better just deal with some floppy rules relaxation and lack of orders/follow through sometimes because that is life. 

And quit worrying about the stupid salad.  

Ok, so I put salad completely out of my mind and went to sleep, only to wake up at 5:00 am, before his alarm went off, worrying about salad making and whether I was supposed to be a mind reader now.

   Again I reminded myself that beating me up is his job, and I'm not allowed to do it, even internally, and I put salad out of my mind again.   Completely.  So completely that I'll probably forget to make it again.  

Seriously though.  "Make salad every night for a first course."  How hard is that to follow, remember and do?  Should be easy, right?   I'm going to get off my hamster wheel once again now and just enjoy this nice sunny day.  

Monday, September 15, 2014

Weekend of Ups and Downs and Ups

This was a weekend of serious ups and downs, and I've been resisting writing anything more than a couple of very small segments.   But here goes to try to do a summary.

Saturday morning Master worked.  I'd felt ill Friday night so he didn't wake me up to make breakfast for him.  I slept until he was almost out the door, when he woke me up to have sex for like two minutes.  
  Then when I let the dogs out in the yard, some of the dogs got in a massive brawl and I injured my thumb trying to break them up.   Some of you who own pets may have had to break up a dog fight, but it really gets bad when the whole pack all joins in. 

 Two of the males started it, then another jumped in, then there are the girls that are "helping" by diving in and taking bites of who ever's hindquarters they can grab.   So first I have to round up all the bitches, and put them in the house.  Meanwhile, the fight is raging all around the yard.   Then I grab the least involved male (Dodge, who is not much of a fighter) and put him inside.  The last two are really locked on, so I break them up with a snow shovel.   I have Ben by the collar and am trying to put him in the house when Taz piles into him again.  This is the same way I got scars all over my hand years ago (different dogs) so I let go of Ben's collar before Taz can get my hand.   I bonk them over the head with the plastic shovel until they let go of each other.  I grab Taz this time and toss him in the dog yard, which he can get out of because Pepper keeps digging holes, but I immediately hustle Ben into the house and put him in a crate before Taz remembers there were holes.  

After all this I had a massive emotional breakdown and spent who knows how long crying in my bed, hating life, dogs, myself and everything.  Finally I pull it together, wishing I'd never gotten half those stupid dogs, and take the kids to the library.  I didn't eat lunch, so by the time we got home I was hungry and miserable.   Mystique and her submissive, hasufel, were already waiting for us when we got home.  Hasufel was going to help Master with some jobs around the farm, but Master wasn't home yet and I didn't know why, because it was 2 hours after his work supposedly ended. 

 Turns out there was a message I didn't see, that someone had come in at the last minute so he stayed late.  

 I ate, then we went for a walk around the pasture, and our friends, plus the antics of the little dogs perked me up quite a bit.  They are so funny bouncing through the tall grass.  Imagine dogs that are less than a foot tall and grass that is three feet tall.

  Master got home a bit later, and Mystique and I watched the two men chop down trees with the chainsaw.  Hasufel dragged them out of the pasture.  I bet he's sore today- the trees were not that small!   Mystique joked about getting out a whip to help motivate him, but it wasn't really needed.   It would have been fun though, if there hadn't been kids around!

They had to leave before dinner, but I cooked something, and our littlest kid started feeling ill since we got home.  He started throwing up and missed the bathroom.  So I cleaned up the living room carpet.  After dinner Master started barfing.  It wasn't the food though, as I ate the same thing and was just fine.  Nobody got much sleep.  I told Master that night I felt my life was pointless.  I was so unhappy.  I didn't feel like I pleased him anymore.

 In the morning I was perfectly miserable, emotionally quite depressed, worried about the kid.  Master felt all better and wanted biscuits, so while I cooked them he ran to the store to get Ginger ale and medicine for the kid who was still constantly cough/barfing.   That was when he picked up the flowers for me, which made all the emotion leak out of my eyes at how sweet he was.  I do love getting flowers.  Screw the thorns.  Heh. Not literally though because that would hurt.  He did say that I'd probably like to have flowers shoved up my ass. 

The kid finally was able to sleep after the medicine took care of his cough (a bloody miracle- those don't usually do much).   I did laundry as the towels and everything were all gross.

When I finished folding clothes Master was waiting in bed for me. 

 He had me lock the door, strip off my clothes and he tied ropes around my body.  He then had me give him a full body massage while he played on the computer game in bed.  No, it really is not all about me.  Nor is it so much a life of glamour being a slave. 

Then I sucked his cock for a good long time while he hit me with a cane.  At first it hurt bad, so all I could think of was how I wanted out of there, to be somewhere else, and I concentrated on not moving and not biting (!) but just not sucking at sucking.   Then it started to feel good as I went into subspace.   I missed his signal to orgasm the first two times, until he gave it louder right beside my ear, then he broke through my spaciness enough that I could come.

He had me put the butt plug in, and fucked me, and let me use the vibrator to more orgasms.  He put his hand over my mouth and nose and made me wait to breathe.  I love it when he controls me that way.  It is so hot.  It's one of my favorite things.   He slapped and punched and fucked me to near oblivion.   

Then he came and we snuggled up.  There was only one pillow in evidence, which was when I made the comment about it being mine. He gave me such a look!  :)    Naughty slave.  ;)

I spent the rest of the day with a greatly improved mood.   I'm such a freaking endorphin junkie.  








Sunday, September 14, 2014

#132 On Things Not To Say To Your Master

While claiming a pillow from the middle of a just-wrecked bed: 

"This one is my pillow.  I don't know where yours went." 

Obviously, all the pillows are his pillows. 

Happy

Master bought me "I'm sorry everyone is sick and you are taking care of them and I know you are miserable not getting any sleep and thanks for cleaning up barf" flowers.  

Isn't he the sweetest? 

Saturday, September 13, 2014

The Rolling Stones

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7S94ohyErSw

Today's song of the day.  

Yesterday it rained pretty much all day. I didn't get much done, but I thought about sex a lot.  I couldn't seem to get it out of my mind.  

When Master got home he brought an interesting looking library book with him.  As he was eating dinner I picked it up off the kitchen table and asked  "I wonder what it says about modern times?"  (The book is A Cartoon History of Modern Times).

Master said "It says leave the book the fuck alone until your husband has had a chance to read it."

I set it back down.

 I know it doesn't really say that, though.  :P


Thursday, September 11, 2014

Mentorship

It is a proud day in the life of a Mentor.  My mentee is ready to spread her wings, er arms, or legs, spread something... anyway she is ready to fly free on her own, without my subtle and oh so wise guidance.  I'm shedding a proud and grateful tear to see her go. 

 Master's Piece over at Down the Rabbit Hole, knows I will never be too far away to give her my own special brand of under the bus throwing help.  She doesn't even have to ask.  

If she has questions on "How do I get him to stop...." I will be on standby to shrug and sigh.

If she agonizes about  "Shouldn't he not be allowed to muck around my brain?"  I will be there to giggle a bit.

If her Master wants to shove things into her various places, I will be there to gently advise about how her gift of submission should never be shoved up his ass in return.

But no more Mentor/mentee.  Because I really think she's ready. 

 Not because she cruelly cut me because I wouldn't put out (I totally would --BTW --except AUSTRALIA, for fucksake).

If you are wondering how I got to be the Mentor of someone way smarter than me, way wiser than me and more world-knowledgeable, who has been a slave WAY longer than myself, well, it is a long and silly story that I have completely forgotten.  Such are the perils of a short memory and being too lazy to search my messages.   It probably had something to do with tequila and a posse of nine banded armadillos.  Or maybe not.