Uniform

Sir says that he is thinking about modifying my current dress code a little.

As of right now, when I am not at work, or working out, I am to wear a dress or skirt. I do own some leggings to wear under the skirts in the wintertime and to exercise.

I have gotten a little lax in that there have been times I wore leggings with no skirt, when I was not exercising. But it has not been very often. I have also pretty much stopped exercising, and as it is not winter, I suppose I've been adhering to dress code more.


Sir is thinking of adding a requirement to my dress code, for indoors only.

Basically, a black leotard.

So that when I am in the house, it would be my uniform.

We looked at a few.

The one he liked best thus far was this:

We would of course need multiple items, enough to get me through a week or so between laundry.
And I don't know if it would change in the winter. Would I be expected to sleep in it? How would having my monthly cycle impact this?

I'm not yet sure how I feel about this. On the one hand, it is another level of control. On the other... part of me wonders what the ultimate goal is. I wonder how compliant I would be. Especially when I am cold. If I will be bratty.

When we talked about it, he said it was a way to direct what I wear, and it would be easier.

Easier for whom, I asked? Certainly not for me. If you have worn one of these, they're not the easiest to get into or out of. They're not the most functional if you have to use the restroom. If you are menstruating, they're a downright pain in the ass. And what about underwear? Do I not wear them now?

But while those are valid things to consider, they're not really the point. Whether it is easier for me or not is irrelevant. If Sir decides it, this is what will be.

Sir is winning this week.

It has been a good week. Sir has pretty much been on FIRE with being awesome this week.

He had me take his new car to work on Monday, since he was off and he could bring my car to the shop to get my airbag fixed. Tuesday morning, I get into my car to go to work, and I see that he also got my entire windshield replaced, too, as a surprise! It's had an enormous crack in it for about a month. I was stressing about how I was going to fix it, both with time, and with the money to do it. This is a HUGE gesture on his part that made me feel so loved, feeling like he has my back.

He also did the dishes when I was away in Virginia all weekend. 

And he brought me cookies and milk. In bed! What a man.

I made him a nice steak dinner to show him that I really do appreciate him. He accidentally left it out on the counter when he went to make lunch the next day. I am the type of person who goes off like a bottlerocket when angered. I am really mad at first, and then I am over it. Sir on the other hand, simmers and stews in his anger. He was more mad at himself than I was. It was a Buy One, Get One offer, so I have another one in the freezer. I joked that we only threw the "free" one away. We have another shot with the one I actually paid money for, haha.

This weekend I stayed home to rest. I've been sick for a couple of weeks. I stayed in my jammies and watched the Harry Potter marathon literally all weekend. I did take breaks to eat, shower, clean a little. But mostly, chilling on the couch in my PJ's watching Harry Potter.

Today, Sir saw that I was cold, and he had the fan on (he's always warm). He told me to turn the fan off. I didn't (I didn't want him to be hot; I could just put the blanket on). He repeated himself, stating: You know this is not a request, do it now.

So I did, and just that little statement made my stomach flip in a great way.

I hope next week is as good as this week!

Today Our D/s Looks Like...

Ugh, I'm sick. I felt it coming on a few days ago, but now it is full blown sore throat, non-stop sneezing, leaky eyes. I guess it's a headcold; I don't usually get allergies (and the allergy medicine I took to test did nothing).

But life goes on. Today my submission looks like persevering through my cold. Cleaning the house for Sir, making food for the week, making him dinner. Taking on a temp job on my day off to bring in extra cash.

Today his Dominance looks like reminding me to eat, telling me to take breaks, and putting me to bed early.

Scissors and Face Slapping

Even after six years, Sir still surprises me.

On our anniversary, I fell asleep after dinner (I know), but the next day we more than made up for it.

Sir came into the kitchen to get himself a drink. He said he was sad because he had just submitted a resume and he already got a "we're not hiring" letter back [he is trying to find a job closer to my work, so we can move and have smaller commutes].

As he finished pouring his soda, I undid my robe, and raised my shirt up. 

"Does this help? Are you feeling less sad?"

He said, "I don't know..."

He flipped me around to face the kitchen window and groped me pretty thoroughly. I kept thinking about the neighbors getting an eyeful. Once he let me go, I came back in to him for a kiss. 

He pinned me there, keeping me against him for quite some time. Then he said I wasn't properly dressed. I looked down. I was wearing a pink camisole, pajama pants, and my big, fluffy, green Legend of Zelda robe. The picture of sexy, no?

But as he walked/pushed me over to the collar cabinet, I realized what he meant.

The BIG Collar.

He placed it around my neck, and spun me around pulling me to him, kissing me until I was fuzzy. He dragged me to the bedroom and threw me down on the bed.

He began hitting my breasts, at his whim. He'd leave, and go into another room. Come back, and start hitting them again.

I was still not appropriately dressed.

"How much do you like that shirt?"

"It's okay, why?"

"What do you think I have behind my back?"

It wasn't the metal spoon holder we use for impact. Or the chain flogger. I knew it was cold and metal, because it had (accidentally?) touched my feet. Finally my brain clicked.

"Scissors?"

"Very good."

Sir pulled out the pair of scissors. He drew them across my skin. He dug them into the fabric of my shirt, pulling so I could feel it. He  quickly cut away at the shoulder straps, before dragging the scissors down my torso, to the bottom edge of my shirt. Slowly, he started to cut it free. 

Somehow, my brain wanted more. I wanted to feel the blade hit my skin, and Sir obliged. I never thought I would be into knife play... or scissor play. Blade play. I'm pretty confident that if I dragged out that checklist we did way back in the day, it would rate very low; possibly even a soft limit.

It is amazing how things change.

Once my shirt was cut away, Sir resumed smacking my tits. Alternating with drawing the opened scissor blade across my chest. Pressing above my heart. Closing the blade, stopping just around my nipple.

The idea that he could just snap the blade through my nipple if he so chose... I am very glad he did not so choose but everything about it just had me in his thrall.

He resumed smacking my breasts and then... *Crack*

Sir slapped me right in the face. No warning. Nothing.

I don't recall Sir ever doing that before. He told me later he has done this once, but I honestly don't remember. I was completely stunned. At a loss for words. Not at all angry or upset, like I thought I would be. And very, very turned on.

After more swats to my chest, inner thighs, and feet, Sir had me move to the middle of the bed and began to fuck me. He continued to smack me right in the face at random intervals. Each time completely unexpected, and each time, releasing a wave of lust rolling through me. I kept looking up at him, touching his face, his beard. He had the smuggest look on his face. I guess he knew just how great he was doing. I'm not exactly subtle anymore.

Right after he made me come, he pulled out abruptly, another display of his control. I started crying, possibly starting even while I was still in the throes of orgasm. I wasn't sad, but tears were just rolling down my cheeks, and I couldn't really stop them. He allowed me to cuddle on him and pretty much cling there as tears streamed down my cheeks, forming a little puddle on his chest. 

Whenever I experience something new with him, I tend to have some kind of  intense reaction, and definitely want to cling. He said I could have all the time I needed. Once I was ready, I went back to him, to make sure he got to finish, too.

I've kept the shirt. I cannot bring myself to throw it away. Seeing it is a lovely reminder. Perhaps I'll sew it back together... and he can rip it open. Perhaps.

I keep thinking about that scene and my feelings on it. I'm surprised by my positive reactions to the blade play, and to the face slapping. I suppose the dominant and sexual context helps, especially for the slapping. I'm not sure that if he just walked into the kitchen with no prelude and cracked me one I would feel the same as I did in these moments.

But I'm so pleased that after six years, I feel like we are still growing, and that we're continuing to grow closer together.

Sir's Confidence and Evening Rituals

Sir being back to work is a blessing in many ways. Of course, there is the big one: financially. Forget buying upgraded foods or getting fancy toys or going places - we're excited to pay bills and reduce our debts. I reworked our budget spreadsheet and actually felt giddy.

Another big blessing is how it is helping Sir. Having work in his field has really helped his psyche and it shows. He is more confident at home and more easily dominant over me. He is growing as a person too, having to adjust to this new schedule and new environment and deal with new people outside his comfort zone (read: fancy rich people). It is helping him to think about other long term goals as well; additional certifications, long term job prospects and environments.

Sir started a new little ritual for us. It was going to be every day, but then he got his work schedule. Every day after we both get home from work, Sir had me sit in our bedroom in front of him. He would brush my hair and we'd talk about our day. Then he would put a little bind in it. I would wear it either until we went to bed (if we had work in the morning - taking it out takes time), or until the next day sleeping in it.

It is a really lovely way to connect after a long day, and to serve him by wearing my hair. Sleeping in it is difficult, so it is a nice service for Sir. I find my service more meaningful when things aren't easy. We're probably only going to be doing this on our weekends since by the time Sir gets home from work, there is about an hour before bed. Still, it is a nice little ritual between us.

A Wonderful Couple of Weeks and D/s Headspaces

It has been an utterly fantastic couple of weeks here.

Sir and I went to the beach. Twice! Once for a day trip with my cousin, uncle and goddaughter, and then again this past weekend. My brother invited us for a few days since he was taking his little nuclear unit as well. We brought our mom and it was a great way for all of us to be together at our favorite place. We talked about doing a trip like this for months now, in honor of my dad, and I'm excited that we did. There were times where it was a bit rough, 7 of us in one hotel room and all that goes with it, but all in all I really enjoyed it. Sir I think tolerated a lot of it, with some highlights of enjoyment.

And then when we got back from vacation, Sir got utterly wonderful news.

He was offered the position he had been interviewing for!!!! After two years hoping to progress his chosen career by going back to school for further training he has landed a job in his field. It's a good salary, full time, with healthcare options, a retirement plan and time off benefits. And it's reasonably close to our house (70 minutes). We were worried initially because he didn't do well on his certification exam, and had to leave his school on a sour note but that doesn't seem to be holding him back at all.

He starts Wednesday. I am beyond excited and proud of him. I know this is going a long way for his mental state and his dominance as well. Achieving his goals and being confident goes a long way for his psyche.

Before we got the news, we were actually discussing how to help him feel more dominant since it just seems that our current lifestyle lends itself to my being more dominant. We talked about both our headspaces. Right now I am serving him by being the breadwinner. It is an active decision on his part. And that is what he needs to keep his head right. Active decision making. If he is at home right now, he can still make decisions. He can still contribute to the household (this is the major thing that was deflating him). There are other things besides paychecks that keep a home afloat.

Yesterday he pulled me aside and just physically took control over me, out of nowhere. Pulling me around by the nipples, grabbing my by the hair, kissing me at his leisure and want. Reminding me of who I am. I asked him jokingly, "where is my parade?" after doing a task, and he gave me one. A parade of smacks to the ass.

I have the task tonight of clearing our dining room table. Sir has been organizing the house and put things that he wanted me to deal with in a few boxes on the table. I am to find homes for the items (or throw them out) and then fold the dining table down (it is mounted to our wall). I am about halfway through with it, taking a quick beverage (and typing) break. This is a good lesson in submission for me today. While I don't mind the cleaning and putting away of the items, I am really ambivalent about taking our table down. I feel like it is going to take something away from our apartment - the feel of it being a proper home, perhaps. But that is not for me to decide. Sir has made his decision on how he wants it, and so I must comply even if I'm not really on board with it.

Part of that helps my head too - adhering to his wishes. Okay, my drink is done. Back to organizing for me!

Being Dominant Through Failures

Yesterday, Sir took me aside and said he had a serious question for me. He said he was originally going to ask another person, a Master that he trusts and converses with from time to time on these things, but he first wanted to see what I had to say, before possibly contacting him.

I was thrilled that he values and trusts my opinion that much.

He asked me how I thought he was to retain dominance in light of failure.

It's a heady question. We both know he's been mentally absent on the D side of our D/s for months now. I am a little frustrated, but understanding. He is dealing with a lot of stress at the moment, and he doesn't typically handle stress as well as I do.

He is also having a real fear of failing in his schooling and certification, and what that will mean for us, and for our relationship. I know he was asking specifically about this situation - how to handle our relationship if he fails this huge endeavor, but it got me thinking a bit broader.

After a bit of thought I think it comes down to a few things.

1. Accept that a failure will happen.  Perhaps not in this instance (and I certainly hope he doesn't flunk out)... but at some point, some time, people fail at things. It is inevitable. Whether it is an exam, a scene, miscommunication, errands... it's going to happen.

2. Of course, try your best not to fail. Plan. Prepare. Work your hardest at it, especially if it is a big goal. If you fail to plan and don't prepare, you're planning and preparing to fail.

3. If you do fail, own up to it. Don't behave as if it didn't happen. Don't let it be the elephant in the room. Own it.

4. If it is a big failure - especially something you cannot fix, allow yourself a grieving time. Grief is about many kinds of loss, and if the failure is the loss of something pivotal, you need to deal with those feelings of grief. This isn't the same as shutting down and running away.

5. After you own up to it, figure out what to do next. What are the next steps? Don't shut down - that isn't going to accomplish much. It is in how you handle the failure that is important. Can you fix it? If you can't fix it, can you make amends? Can you try again? And if you can't do any of these things, what is plan B?


For Sir specifically, we talked about how to handle the event of him not finishing school. I mentioned giving some time for grief. It's been a huge two-year undertaking, that affects our future. If he doesn't finish, there will be feelings of loss for that future and for the past two years of effort. That's normal.

I asked him to have a plan B. We've talked about some Plan Bs for awhile now, but it's up to him to decide the best course of action.

I asked him not to forget who he is. He is the Dominant. Just as it was really difficult when I was allowed to forget who I was as his submissive, him continuing to forget his Dominant side would be disastrous. If he's not up to jumping right in, I think a good course of action is to read and think. I sent him some websites with articles on dominance. I find immense help in reading the thoughts of other submissives. It makes me think about my own nature and our relationship. It keeps my head in the game. I truly do think it would help him a lot. Read and think.... and plot.

If your mind is active, it is easier for the rest to occur.

For the record, I have every confidence in him. Things have been rough, but he can do this! He didn't do well on his final certification exam... BUT he gets to re-sit the exam on June 30th. So all is not lost. He's got a few weeks to turn it around. And he can do it. He's just got to buckle down. And I'm here for him, through success or failure. 

The Bitch Stick

I came into the office to grab my phone, and Sir tells me to come to him. I'd been wearing my leash attached to my chain all day, per his instructions. He grabs my leash tight and pulls me to him, kissing me hard without much warning. Pulling, keeping me in place. Kissing forcefully. His lips are like a seal around my small mouth, sucking. Sucking all my resistance and thoughts... away.

Apparently I just dropped that phone and gave in. How could I not, though? He keeps a tight hold on my chain, moving his lips to my shoulder, sucking, biting as I squirm. Pulling, the chain biting into my neck as he hikes my skirt up, his hand roughly grabbing between my legs. He steps up from his chair, pulling me upright, and close to him, removing my shirt and hiking the rest of that skirt up, manhandling me through my tights as much as he desires. I find humor in looking up at him; giggling, watching his nostrils flare in excitement. I briefly pull my legs away, wondering if he will pull me back, wanting to feel more of his control. He calls me on my move, not quite believing the reason (probably believing his because his hand is not letting up on me).

Of course he pulls me back, snapping my tights as he lets go and I revel in it. Thinking about it now, that is not a very submissive move. If he puts me somewhere, I should stay put.

"Fucking seriously, Bitch? If I pull you to me, you fucking stay. And I don't quite believe that that's the reason. It's got nothing to do with my hand all up on your fucking pussy right now? If I want to grab this pussy I will grab it, and you will like it!"

I giggle.

"Whats so fucking funny?" Sir rolls his eyes. "You're not still laughing about my nostrils again, are you, Bitch?"

I'm not. I'm laughing because of his language. Unlike me, Sir rarely curses. If he says 'fuck', it's out of extreme frustration; for emphasis. I guess he is one of the few people I know that uses curse words for their proper purpose. Hearing him swear and use the word pussy... it's just so out of character. And while I'm laughing, I like it; his language, his demeanor, his body language. It's screaming dominance, and I'm loving it.

"I can't say pussy, Bitch? Would cunt be better?"

I don't really have a response for him. He can say whatever he likes, do as he likes. I just can't help laughing.

He goes back to attacking my shoulder with his lips, keeping me clamped in place with one hand pulling on my leash, the other still firmly working between my legs. He grabs my hair tightly in his fist, still holding my leash, pulling my head back for kisses that make me forget everything else. I feel like I am pouring myself into him.

He pulls me into the bedroom, keeping a tight hold the entire time.

"Do you know what's going to happen now?"

I don't even have time to answer before he pushes me forcefully down on the bed, face down.

Earlier that night, we threw out a cat tent that our kitty ignores and took up way too much space in our bedroom. But before we did, we dismantled it and had several short sections of plastic pipe. We looked at each other over the garbage can (outside) and brought them back into the house.

He started beating my ass with what he now calls "The Bitch Stick". Over my tights at first. Then he pulled them, and my skirt from me, flipping me over briefly, and then back again face down.

He beats me some more. Scrapes my back with the edge of the stick, pulling my head back, fist in my hair. It makes a slight whistling noise as it cuts the air.

"I'm going to do one cheek horizontal and one cheek vertical." He makes good on it. One definitely hurts more than the other. He beats the other to match intensity of pain.

"Do you like this? You've got a pretty pink ass, you know."

"It hurts..." I say.

"That's not what I asked. Do you like this?"

"...A little, Sir." I'm always saying that. Of course I like it. I'm embarrassed and uncomfortable and he's making me do things, being forceful and making me admit things to him. Yes, I like it.

"Let's see." He shoves his fingers up my cunt. It's easy for him.

"You like it a little, huh? That's not what she seems to think."

He is rough with me. I squirm and try to get away, I guess. But he's got my leash and my hair, and I'm not going anywhere.

He holds me in place, fingering me roughly. It hurts, but it has a taste of that good kind of hurt with it. I wonder if he's making me get used to his hands in there, since I've said I hate it, and I've clamped my legs down or held his hands as best I could from getting in there in the past. He usually wins. Or gets me in my sleep.

"Someone is certainly wet and squishy..."

I find a small amount of embarrassment in him verbalizing that, and being all up in there. But part of me likes it too; the embarrassment, him forcing me to take it.

He removes his fingers. "Grab the rope on the nightstand and flip over."

He places the bitch stick under my right knee, using it to stabilize the rope so that I cannot unbend my leg.

"Now, get up and get the other sticks in the living room."

Just getting off the bed is a chore. I probably should have put more thought into how to get into the other room. I try using the bound leg, and I just go down, catching myself just in time. It's a weird angle to be bent at. I bend the unaffected leg to match, and take a few more steps, looking super glamorous, I am sure. I try hopping with one leg, but I am unstable and need to support myself with my arms. I make it back to the bed finally through hopping/hobbling, sticks in hand, both of us laughing.

He readjusts my bondage. I honestly don't remember if he actually used the other sticks that I had to fetch just then. I remember later, both him and me beating my breasts with them, watching them jiggle. I seemed able to handle more pain than normal. I didn't feel as exposed as I normally do when dealing with breast impact.

I remember him fucking me, good and hard, after I said I didn't think he'd get in there. I remember him taking my leash and pulling on it. I remember his fist in my hair. I remember thinking it'd be lovely to have both legs bound with the bitch sticks, face down, him pulling on the leash and chain as he takes me. I remember him coming. Now that I've started the pill and he won't be needing those condoms much longer, it figures that it's now that he seems to have finally been able to finish with them.

I remember him going to take a quick shower while I was still hazy. He lovingly unclasped the leash from my chain. "Don't want you to choke; you look like you're going to pass out."

He let me sleep until 11:30 am the next day.

I guess he wore me out.