Day 112 - On Victorian Servitude and Being a Maid of All Work, On Getting Flirty with a Very Cute Actor at a Christmas Play, On Being Flogged for my First Time (and Loving It), On Getting My Birthday Spanking, On Coming in Second With Master During a BDSM Competition, and On Having Trouble Watching "Upstairs Downstairs"

I was attempting recently to watch “Upstairs Downstairs,” the British television show from the 70’s about the lives of the servants (downstairs) and their employers (upstairs) in an Edwardian household.

Master and M’Lady desire me to watch it so that I can understand how they would love things to be here. Master often says he considers his household to be “neo-Victorian,” and although he doesn’t believe in emulating Victorian life in a lot of ways, it’s how he wishes to see my service to him. (And, no, I’m not going to get into the debate of “slavery versus servitude” again. I’m sick of that.)

Master has all the episodes on DVD. The problem is that I’m quite hard of hearing, and the DVDs aren’t closed-captioned, and the audio and video from the American DVDs is absolutely horrible, and they’re speaking with deep British accents, so ... I’m hardly understanding a word being said. I was able to get the novelization of the series out from the library, and that’s been delightful to read, but it naturally cuts out quite a bit of everything. Nonetheless, by combining what I’m reading in the novel with what little I can make out from the show, I’m getting a grasp regarding what’s happening.

I also need to understand Victorian servitude because Master desires me to teach a class on the historical roots of modern consensual slavery. Part of it will be to discuss Victorian servitude because, Master said, much of what is expected in modern consensual slaves comes from the ideas of that time period.

From what I’ve seen just in the first half of the first episode of “Upstairs Downstairs”, I can see what he’s saying. Domestic employees are treated by their employers almost like chattel, to the point of being renamed with a “servant” name to which they are forced to respond (just like many slaves have been renamed by their Owners throughout history). The big difference is, of course, any servant can leave their employer ... in theory, that is, as some servants simply weren’t able to find other work (just like many people in jobs of all types today often have to work in awful conditions because they desperately need the job, or because any other jobs out there would be even worse) or had other reasons to remain (such as the fact that many servants came from a tradition of servitude and wouldn’t think of doing anything else).

Oh, yeah ... in case you didn’t notice, I just compared a lot of normal jobs out there today to slavery. I’m not the first, and I won’t be the last, to make that analogy.

I’ve been researching Victorian servitude in other ways, and it’s clear I would be what’s considered a “maid of all work,” which is basically a female servant who does everything. I’ve attached at the bottom of today’s post a good description of it, taken from a book written in 1858 titled “The Dictionary of Daily Wants” (which is viewable and searchable online). Here’s the first paragraph of the definition, though, with emphasis on the last sentence, which makes me realize just how close to home this definition is for me: “A domestic servant, who undertakes the whole duties of a household without assistance; her duties comprising those of cook, housemaid, nurserymaid, and various other offices, acccording to the exigencies of the establishment. The situation is one which is usually regarded as the hardest worked and worst paid of any branch of domestic servitude; it is, therefore, usually filled by inexperienced servants, or females who are so circumstanced that they are only desirous of securing a home, and of earning sufficient to keep themselves decently clad. In many of these situations, a servant may be very comfortably circumstanced, especially if it be a limited family of regular habits, and where there is a disposition to treat the servant with kindness and consideration.”

*blinks*

After looking online, I found out that I’m not the only one with problems with the series. Apparently, people with very good hearing are complaining left and right that the American DVD set is absolutely terrible. The British version, however, is apparently fantastic. Master came in while I was reading that, and I told him what I had found out, and to my delight, he spontaneously ordered the British DVD set for me to watch (he has a DVD player he bought specifically for British DVDs, so that’s no problem). The set wasn’t very expensive, but, even more, he really wants me to watch them, so it looks like I’ll have a better chance soon!

Anyway ...

It’s Friday night, and I’m behind in my posting again. I’m a little loopy tonight because Master flogged me for ... err ... I have no idea how long he was at it.

We went to the Denver Sanctuary BDSM Club for the opening night of a theater play being performed there called, “Who Killed Santa?” It was very silly and funny in places, and fortunately I got to read the script so I could know what was being said.

The guy who played “Tiny Tim” (who was one of the suspects) was quite cute, by the way. And he had a fantastic singing voice. And did I say he was rather cute? *grins*I made no bones about how I felt to Master, and he very nicely let me go to the actor when he was getting ready to leave and tell him I thought he did a great job. And the actor and I talked ... and I told him I was a slave full time ... and he told me he had a list of fetishes as long as his arm ... and he loved getting dressed up like a little girl and spanked ... and I practically melted ... and he wanted to give me his phone number but couldn’t find a pen ... and I told him the lady who runs the club knows my Owner and can give him my number ... and ... I came back to Master dreamy eyed ... and Master knows I’d love to ... err ... get together with the actor some day and ... y’know ...

*giggles*

The night continued to be a good one because later on Master got out his box of floggers, as I previously noted. He soon ordered me into the dungeon, made me take off my shirt and bra, placed me against a St. Andrew’s Cross, and (literally) before I knew it he was flogging me and ... it was my very first time. Yep. Never flogged before tonight.

He kept moving up to more and more intense floggers as the time wore on. First his flogging was soft ... then got harder ... and more painful ... then annoying as hell ... then loosened up ... then sort of flowed together ... then became a very nice stinging ... and at that point Master showed me he had been using a very painful single-tailed whip ... and to me it was a pleasant sensation when it hit me ... and that’s when Master knew I was flying, that I had crossed over ... and instead of flogging me he started rubbing my back and caressing it with a very soft flogger ... and ... after awhile he brought me to a bench ... and ... mmmm ... I was flying tonight ... And I still am a bit ...

Within the last month I’ve tried needle play, paddling and flogging ... and I love them all! *bounces*

Speaking of spanking, I got a rather nasty paddling last Saturday, which so happened to be my birthday. Master brought his favorite paddles, laid them out at the club, made me drop my pants and bend over a bench, and proceeded to whack my ass several dozen times (and I’m not saying exactly how many! *winks*) I was buzzing that night, too!

But the fact that we had done a scene earlier in the night made it even more powerful.

The earlier scene was part of a big contest going on called the MacGyver Challenge. Dominants were each given a bag of random stuff bought at a dollar store, and they had five minutes to think up a BDSM scene they could do with their sub using only that stuff.

Master got some Christmas-tree wire tinsel, hair curlers, a toilet brush, latex gloves and three plastic rulers. Soon I was tied to a pillory using the tinsel with my fingers locked together in the hair curlers in front of my breasts while Master started torturing my vagina with the brush and attacking my nipples with the rulers and gloves. I made sure the judges could see I was having an intense experience, and I think that helped. *grins* I did orgasm at least once while he was thrusting the brush between my legs, so I wasn’t pretending or anything! *chuckles*

Out of 13 teams there, Master and I won second place. First place would have been admission to the club for a year (a $700 total value). Second place was admission to the club’s New Year’s party (a $50 value). We probably won’t go, so Master plans to give the tickets as a Christmas gift to somebody.

We’re heading back to the club again tonight. I’ve amazingly got another night off from cooking because they’re having an after-Thanksgiving buffet there. Beats me what Master and I will do afterward. Probably “beats me” is an accurate prediction. *chuckles*

Hmmm ... Maybe the guy who played Tiny Tim will be there again tonight ... *smiles*

La kajira!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maid of All Work -- A domestic servant, who undertakes the whole duties of a household without assistance; her duties comprising those of cook, housemaid, nurserymaid, and various other offices, acccording to the exigencies of the establishment. The situation is one which is usually regarded as the hardest worked and worst paid of any branch of domestic servitude; it is, therefore, usually filled by inexperienced servants, or females who are so circumstanced that they are only desirous of securing a home, and of earning sufficient to keep themselves decently clad. In many of these situations, a servant may be very comfortably circumstanced, especially if it be a limited family of regular habits, and where there is a disposition to treat the servant with kindness and consideration.

The duties of a maid of all work being multifarious, it is necessary that she should arise early in the morning; and six or half-past six o'clock is the latest period at which she should remain in bed. She should first light the kitchen fire, and set the kettle over to boil; then she should sweep, dust, and prepare the room in which breakfast is to be taken. Having served the breakfast, she should, while the family are engaged upon that meal, proceed to the various bedchambers, strip the beds, open the windows, etc. This done, she will obtain her own breakfast, and after washing and putting away the things, she will again go upstairs, and finish what remains to be done there.

As the family will in all probability dine early, she must now set about the preliminaries for the dinner, making up the fire, preparing the vegetables, etc. After the dinner is cleared away, and the things washed and put by in their places, she must clean the kitchen; and this done, she is at liberty to attend to her own personal appearance, to wash and dress herself, etc. By this time the preparation for tea will have to be thought of, and this being duly served and cleared away, she must employ herself in needlework in connection with the household, or should there happen to be none requiring to be done, she may embrace this opportunity to attend to her own personal necessities. Supper has then to be attended to; and this finished, the maid of all work should take the chamber candlesticks, hot water, etc., into the sitting-room, and retire to rest as soon as her mistress or the regulation of the establishment will permit her.

The duties here set down can only be regarded as an outline rather than a detail, the habits of every family varying, and thereby regulating the amount of labour demanded, and the order in which the duties are to be performed. As a rule, however, a maid of all work, if she wish to retain her situation, must be industrious, cleanly, and thoughtful; and not only able to work, but to plan.

Day 101 - On Being Paddled for an Hour and Loving it More than Yesterday, On Loving the Bitter Cold, On Feeling my Arctic Wolf Come Out, and On Masturbating in the Garage

Tonight was the paddling class by Master.

He used me as a demonstration tool to show how paddles should be used, and to show the effect of using different paddles.

The number and types of paddles Master has is amazing.

He has long and thin paddles made from aluminum. He has short and thick paddles made from granite and other stones. He has paddles made from wood, from thick and dark and heavy ebony to thin and light and creamy bamboo. He has a gigantic leather paddle that was used in the Louisiana prison system.

He has a paddle made from a tire tread. He has wooden rice spoons and rug beaters. He has a leather paddle used in a Scottish boarding school.

Some of the paddles have holes cut in them to decrease air flow and cause the flesh to get pulled up by impact.

One of the paddles he said he loves the most because it makes a great ringing sound when it strikes against flesh.

All of the different types were used on me.

Oh, Hell, did it hurt. Especially the rug beaters. They were the worst.

But I was tripping by the end. Definitely in sub space.

And ... err ... my upper thighs were quite wet by the time Master was done paddling me. I was wondering if everybody in the room could smell my excited vagina's juices flowing down my crotch.

They would have had an easy time of it, for sure, because during almost all of the presentation, I was bent over a table, facing away from the audience, so everybody could clearly watch everything that was happening to my naked ass. And since they were only about 10 feet away, I figure my pussy was pretty obvious to everybody as well.

*giggles*

The most intense paddle of all was one he didn’t have. One of the audience members brought their own paddle collection, and they had a child’s oar used for rowing. It may have been designed for a child to use, but it was still long and heavy.

Master used it on me at the very end, after he had warmed me up sufficiently. He spanked me with it six times. Or seven. I lost count. I could hardly walk back to my chair afterward, I was so woozy.

Master is so wonderful. Throughout the presentation, he checked on me to make sure I was okay.

Not that he really had to, as I was smiling and giggling throughout most of the presentation.

Well, when I wasn’t screaming “OUCH!” Which, of course, isn’t a safe word, so he kept going.

*chuckles*

I got tons of sleep last night. Master had let me sleep in because I had been so busy with so many chores. I shoveled the sidewalks and driveway after the big snow. I hauled lots of boxes into the basement. Things like that.

And, still, tonight, after we got home from the paddle class, I was so exhausted I plopped into bed and fell into a very peaceful sleep.

Mmmmm …

I should probably head to bed now. Master woke me up when he was heading to bed, and I got up to get ready (I was still in my clothes), and I decided to write this. I like how things are getting busier and busier here. I love how my duties as a slave are steadily increasing. Today was pretty busy as well, so this is the first time I’ve had a chance to add to what I was writing last night.

One thing I wanted to mention was the affect snow has on me. I love it, intensely. It seems to affect my instincts.

Yesterday, being out in the snow, I felt like the arctic wolf inside me was screaming to get out. Or howling, as the case may be.

I wanted to prowl. To hunt.

Back when I was with my ex, we lived near some huge tracts of public open space. Some of my fondest memories were taking our black lab for hikes. At midnight. Under a full moon. During snowstorms. Not just individually, but combined, with one of the most wonderful nights of my life being a midnight hike under a full moon during a snowstorm in the middle of a huge field with coyotes shadowing our footsteps and occasionally howling to share the news of our passing. I’d howl back as well, and sometimes they’d even respond, bringing a huge cheer to my heart.

If I could have thrown off my clothes and shoveled the snow nude yesterday, I would have. As it was, the only thing I wore were boots, jeans and a thin T-shirt that said “Slave Girl” on it.

As I was getting things ready, I was in the garage, but without the jeans or boots.

Knowing people on the other side of the street could potentially see me (if they happened to be on the second floor of their houses looking in) really turned me on, and I suddenly couldn’t resist masturbating there, in the cold, so I stripped off my panties and fingered myself until I orgasmed. Mmmmm … that was nice … *bounces happily*

Yeah, I’m an exhibitionist, I have to admit. And Master knows that, which is why he had me take off my jeans and panties tonight for the class. *grins*

*sigh* It’s cold again tonight. Bitter cold. And I still feel like hunting.

I think I’ll go hunt up some leftover chicken in the fridge, then call it a night and curl up to Master in bed.

I am SUCH a lucky girl to be his slave. So very, very lucky, I can’t imagine what I did to deserve this.

La kajira!!!

Day 100 - On Being Paddled by a Sadist (and Loving it), on Planning a Very Busy Week, and On Realizing Just How Spoiled and Priviledged I Am to Be a Consensual Slave in America

Life continues as normal in my Master’s household. Well, normal for here.

A blizzard came down and messed up the plans for today.

I had planned to go to a submissive coffee this morning (as opposed to a more dominant blend. *grins*) Seriously, it was a monthly breakfast coffee klatch for area submissives to get together and chat about their lives, and I really hoped to meet other slaves and share things with them. I’m a bit lonely for people who understand my lifestyle, although I know they’re out there. The good news (barring more bad weather) is the Sanctuary’s monthly submissive’s meeting is also this week, on Wednesday night, so hopefully I’ll have a chance to let my hair down and chew the fat (and talk about the nitty gritty) there. *chuckles*

Also, Master was planning on taking M’Lady and me out to dinner to an Ethiopian restaurant in Boulder to celebrate his and M’Lady’s wedding anniversary. I’ve never been to an Ethiopian restaurant, but I hear the food there is fantastic, and I was really looking forward to it. Well, I think the blizzard was the reason we didn’t go. To be honest, the roads were totally cleared off tonight, and we could have gone. I’m thinking Master was still a bit concerned because of the potential for ice on the road, so things were postponed.

Assuming we are going again soon, the soonest will be … err … I’m not sure.

Tomorrow night Master is teaching a class on paddling, and I’ll be his charming assistant. And, yep, we know what that will mean for my poor little heinie!

Master warmed me up a bit tonight with some S&M fun by first pinching my nipples HARD for a long time, and at first I couldn’t stop giggling, which made him pinch harder, and then I fell into subspace and … wow … it was nice!

I admit, I orgasm damn easily. And I’m finding I can slide into subspace pretty easily as well. Master and I agreed that, without a doubt, I’m a painslut. And a masochist. But we knew that. *grins*

Anyway, after he was done with my nipples, he went into the basement and got a HUGE bamboo rice spoon that made an incredible paddle and … well … let’s just say we tried it out. We had a lot of fun with it, with Master spanking me at random at first (which made me giggle again uncontrollably), then him deciding to paddle me for minor offenses, then deciding on “a bold experiment” to see whether taking my clothes off causes the level of pain to increase exponentially and … he had me pull down my pants and bend over a counter and … WHAM! OUCH! WHAM! OUCH! WHAM! OUCH! Damn, that hurt! But … mmmmm … *laughs*

So … wish me luck tomorrow!

Tuesday night Master has bowling, so that night’s out.

Wednesday is the submissive’s meeting, as I mentioned.

Thursday I had planned to be with my kids.

Friday night is Inner Sanctum, and Master is definitely going with me. That’s the high-protocol meeting at the Sanctuary I talked about in a previous blog, where only people who are specifically invited can attend, and each dominant must be with a submissive (and vice versa). Master loves high protocol, and so do I, so it’s a big deal to us both.

Saturday is my birthday! I’ll be 47! That night is also the McGyver Night competition at the Sanctuary. Each Dominant gets to draw which random piece of equipment he’ll get, and then he’ll be given a box of random stuff, and the challenge is to make the best scene in a limited amount of time. Master and I are really looking forward to it.

And, yeah, I expect I’ll get spanked that night as well in honor of my birthday. Eeep!

So maybe next Sunday will be the Ethiopian restaurant. Well, unless I move the night I’m with my kids to Tuesday.

*sighs*

And, I promised Mistress (whose birthday was last Saturday) that I would spend a day with her this week and make her a fancy lunch. Maybe I can do that on Tuesday. Or Thursday. I’m so confused. This is going to be one heck of a busy week!

For a slave, sometimes I have a really packed social calendar.

It hits me sometimes how being a consensual slave in the United States is truly a life of luxury.

I’ve been reading a fascinating (but depressing) book about how the concept that we’re living in a wonderful society is all based on lies and misconceptions bolstered by politicians and advertisers. The book is titled “Empire of Illusion: The Endo of Literacy and the Triumph of Spectacle”, and it’s by Chris Hedges. At the core, it talks about how we’ve all been hoodwinked into ignoring the real news and important truths in society, and instead how we all are fixated on pretend news, like who’s the winner of American Idol.

In the chapter on “The Illusion of Happiness”, it talks about how awful it is to work in Toyota factories in Japan, and how workers are treated like slaves and treated horribly (while still technically being treated very humanely and safely). The situation is just as bad for many factory workers in the United States. I’m not talking about illegal immigrants, either. I’m talking about how awful the jobs are for so many blue-collar workers in this country.

And when I read about things like that, I realize just how spoiled I am.

I’m the live-in servant for an upper-middle-class couple in an affluent suburb. I get fancy food and videos and computer access and anything I need, and all I have to do is take care of all their household needs and be respectful at all times.

I don’t want to even think about comparing my life to that of real slaves. The non-consensual ones who want to be free, but are chained in small rooms in third world countries and raped by anybody who pays to use them.

Like in the fictional world of Gor, but even worse. Well, okay, not worse, but just as bad.

I got to talking to Master today about my first Master, who was (and is) a die-hard Gorean. He truly believed women should be treated like that. Like non-consensual slaves. Raped and abused against their will.

I hate Gor. People like my first Master sicken me.

And, yet, my first Master still owns a part of my heart. He was truly my Master. And he still is in a way.

Or, he would be, if my current Master wasn’t around.

*sighs, then smiles gently, then sighs again*

This is getting too depressing. I’ll talk about my early Masters in an upcoming post. For now, I’ll post this and head to bed.

Night, everybody.

La kajira.