A blizzard of snow and an explosion of carrots have got me rather tired and a bit achy today.
Yep! *giggles*
Master has given me a half-hour break to rest before dinner. I’ve spent the last couple of hours cleaning tiny bits of carrot out from underneath the kitchen sink and everywhere around it. It’s amazing how many little cracks and hard-to-reach spaces there are under there, and I had to admit to Master that I wouldn’t be able to get every single bit of the orange veggie from the darkest recesses. He laughed it off, and afterward he called me to his knees, hugged me tightly, kissed my head, told me he was quite proud of me, and asked me how I was doing. I smiles, incredibly happy at his praise, and told him I was tired but otherwise feeling great, and he kissed me again and sent me off to rest.
The carrots didn’t actually explode, mind you. Yesterday Master and M’Lady were at the bulk-foods store (Costco), and Master asked me if there was anything in particular I enjoyed eating. I couldn’t think of much until he mentioned he had a juicer, and I jumped excitedly and begged him for a big bunch of carrots, because I absolutely LOVE carrot juice!
Well, today, Master got out his juicer to make watermelon juice for himself (he uses everything, rinds and all, which he says have antioxidants), and then it was my turn. All went well until I tried to get all the carrot pulp to go through the disposal. The pulp clogged up the drainpipe a bit, and when Master saw it, he proceeded to get the plunger to push it through. Well … it so happened that the pipe was actually broken already, and when Master used the plunger, the carrot shrapnel went flying all over the space under the sink, causing a huge mess.
I shrugged, sighed and set down to work at seeing it, cleaning a space for Master to get in to examine the pipe. Seeing the problem (he’s REALLY smart), he went off to the hardware store for needed parts while I cleaned up.
M’Lady came by and didn’t say much, instead just watching briefly to make sure I did a good job. She did, however, take advantage of my work by accepting my offer of a glass of carrot juice. And that made it all worth it, because M’Lady has a tendency to eat a junky diet, and anything I can do to help encourage her to eat or drink healthy foods makes me feel wonderful (and carrot juice is SO good for her!!! *bounces happily*).
Tonight we’re all going to the Denver Sanctuary BDSM club for their annual Halloween party. Mistress is letting me borrow a splendid “Queen of Hearts” outfit that’s really sexy, and I can’t wait to go.
It’s great that the weather is finally cleared off, too. A few days ago we had a humongous blizzard that closed down the city prettymuch, and we were snowed in for a couple of days. There was actually a bit of concern for awhile that the snow would continue to the weekend, ruining Halloween for everybody, but … horray! The weather’s cold but othewise great!
The worst part about the snow to me was the fact that I wasn’t able to see my kids yet this week, and I really miss them. But tomorrow I’ll be with them, and my ex and I are planning that I see them extran next week to make up for this week, so things should be sweet! *grins happily*
I feel a bit depressed about today, though. Master and M’Lady don’t give out candy to Trick or Treaters. And I wasn’t able to go with my kids to the Halloween Carnival at the local high school because of the blizzard. This is the first year in decades . . . maybe ever . . . that Trick or Treating hasn’t been part of the holiday for me. No kids today. No happy faces thrilled at the candy you give them. No little boys and girls dressed as fairies and super heroes and princesses and ninjas. My son was dressed as a ghoul with glowing eyes. My daughter was dressed as Hermione from Harry Potty. I haven’t seen their costumes. Okay, I’m definitely depressed about this.I’m going to the Halloween party tonight with Master and M’Lady but . . . to me, Halloween is about kids. And I feel like this is the first year ever I’ll be missing Halloween.
*sighs*
Although Master got the driveway cleared enough to get out to check the mail for his business yesterday (a neighborhood boy wanted to do it for some cash, and Master decided to have him do it instead of me), finishing the job was left in my hands today (my car was still snowed in, and the sidewalks still needed to be uncovered). Let’s just say I got my exercise today! *grins*
Eeep. The half hour’s up … time to make dinner! Back later!
. . .
Dinner was . . . draining. Tonight’s recipe (“Pork and Aspargus over Linguine”) was surprisingly complicated, and the recipe he gave me turned out to be missing an important sentence that caused some definite confusion. Master, seeing my befuddlement, came in and gave me some cooking pointers, some about things I didn’t know, and some about things I should have known but was too brain dead to notice (such as the fact that I should have cut up everything ahead of time, and that the linquine should have been timed to be done at the end instead of near the beginning).
Everything turned out fine in the end, but I was so mentally exhausted at one point that I came very close to breaking down crying with frustration and sorrow that I might not be pleasing my Owner.
He is my life. My everything.
My journal lately too much has been talking about my activities. I don’t know whether I’m talking enough about my heart.
I love my Owner. I want him to own me mind, body and soul. I want him to use me completely in every way.
I realized last night, and I told him today, that there is a reason I’m slightly masochistic.
My masochism is directed only toward my Owners.
By being hurt by them against my wishes, it reaffirms their true ownership of me. And, to me, the bliss of knowing that brings a joy beyond words.
Ton ight Master sent me something to ponder … a writing by an anonymous author … about slavery. He wanted my opnion on it, and we’ll be discussing it on the way to the Sanctuary tonight.
The writing reaffirms what I told him. Entitled “Slave: A Unique Definition,” it’s printed at the end of today’s post.
I don’t agree with everything in it, as I think the writer was a bit too pretentious. But, at heart, it’s right in so many ways.
Things have been so different here in so many ways from being with Mistress.
With Mistress, there was a sexual passion that lingered in the air, making things charged at all times. There was an awareness that I was to be ready at all times to be used for my womanhood, and that my mouth was to be ready at all times to be placed around a visitor’s cock. Mistress would spank me and pinch me and tickle me unexpectedly at any time in a way that gave me wonderful proof over and over again that she truly owned me. There was a looseness of protocol at most times, yet a unique strictness. And the feelings shifted between Mistress seeing me as her slave and as her sister.
Here, indeed, I know I am a slave, without a doubt.
But the sexual tension isn’t there. I am a Victorian slave, not a medieval one, I guess. I have to be on my toes more to make sure the particular desires of Master and M’Lady are always fulfilled. Everything is in its proper place at all times. I am more of a slave here than with Mistress, and less.
It is, simply put, different.
I fit better here, I feel. Master clearly wants to keep me as his slave indefinitely, with the intention of supporting me financially in all ways needed. There is so much I can do here I couldn’t do for Mistress.
But I’m still getting used to things.
Fortunately, Master is quite patient.
And I have to be, as well.
La kajira!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
slave - a unique definition
A slave is a truly enraptured and enrapturing creature, capable of the greatest pain and the deepest passion. She is a temperamental creature, simultaneously fickle in her emotions, and fiercely, ferociously devoted in her affection.
She is tumultuous and tempestuous, a mercurial maelstrom, and she knows noother way to be. If she could, she would not change, because, on some primeval level, she realizes that the death of her passion would be the death of her.
In truth, a slave is not simply the finest of all creatures; she is the epitome of all creatures. She combines strength and weakness, boldness and a certain shy innocence, languor and desperation; she is both cosmopolitan and naive. Her nature is an amalgam of all that is passionate in any sense of the word. She is nothing without an owner, but in his arms, she is all things.
She is voracious and demanding, wanting nothing more, and certainly nothing less, than the absolute enslavement of the one she loves--the owner of her soul. She cannot be, will not be, and is incapable of being completely happy, until she knows to the very depths of her being that her owner is, in truth, owned by the reality of owning her.
She longs for the completion of a partner in her own rapture/misery. If you beat her, she will smile at you through her tears, because you have reaffirmed for her your ownership, your innate right to mistreat her if you please. If you kiss her, she will bite you, begging you with her passion to own her again, and more completely this time.
She is dangerous and daring. Self-preservation will never be her strong suit. She will beguile you to her last breath, knowing that without you, she cannot breathe at all. Her vulnerability will appall you with the knowledge that you could never-would never-- allow anyone that close to you, and at the same time, arouse in you every protective instinct you possess, to see that no one ever ravages this state of her-- except you.
She will define her entire world by your moods, enchanting herself with them, until she has internalized them so completely that a single look from you can bring her to laughter, or to tears, or to orgasm, or to suicide. She will love you with an abandon that will leave you stunned.
She will worry you, and nag you; she will threaten and cajole. And she will do it because she is incapable of holding back from you, even though she knows that you will pay it all no immediate heed, because your attention is your whim. She will revel in your denial of her pleasure. It only confirms her own desire.
But do not be misled. She is clever and she is fleet, and she will give you all you can handle and more. She knows her own value, and is not afraid to demand repayment in kind. She is not for the faint of heart, body, mind or resolve.
She will tax your every breath, your every thought, your every move. She is responsibility for something far greater than yourself and her independence in that will confound you.
Be wary, be attentive. Devastate her if you can, but know that she will only thank you for it if you do. And much to your consternation, she will politely, sweetly, touchingly beg you to do it again. And still she will want more.
But never destroy her adoration for you by withholding your own. Never give her cause to doubt it, because if you do, she will exact retribution and it will be the greatest agony you have ever known. She will withdraw from you. She will take her love and walk away without hesitation, because she is enslaved only by her love for you, and without that love, your power over her is gone.
She will leave you cold. And when she does, you will finally know that all along, you needed her too.
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