It finally happened. I'm finally a slave, owned full-time. Yesterday I finally moved in with my Mistress, whose collar around my neck.
Oh, hell, this is going to be a tough gig. But, I feel, a joyful one at its core.
The clean dishes were just put away, and dirty ones are being washed. I have to be careful of the hot water because, under Mistress's orders, I'm naked at all times when I'm indoors.
Mistress had a male visitor today, and he scanned my body with unhidden lust. His primary comment was a command for me to shave my pubic hair, which I did after he left. He was a former potential Master of mine, so I’m used to him seeing me naked – and seeing him naked as well, and following his orders. We’re not totally on the best of terms – it was my decision to temporarily leave him so I could decide whether I truly wanted to be owned by him. But in doing that, I had committed the ultimate sin – I took off his collar without his permission – and our relationship was over just like that, in the blink of an eye.
I've got a load of laundry about to go. I've got the roast thawing in preparation for making dinner tonight. I'm about to make the bed and take out the trash.
I wish it would always be that easy. I have so many things to do today … and tomorrow, and all of this week, and all of this month, and as far as I can see into the future … that I can hardly encompass them all in my head.
Mistress ordered me to keep a daily log, and this will be it. I won’t always talk about slavery, but I’ll talk about something. Hopefully it’ll be interesting.
And so it goes.
-- schatzie
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment