tuesday

It’s been a quiet day in the life of this slave girl.

Master Michael is traveling on business. He’ll be back Thursday. It snowed during the night and through mid-afternoon, with a wind that felt a little blizzardy at times.

I stayed in all day and enjoyed the quiet. It was lovely.

I came out of the kitchen at 7:30 this morning, bearing a coffee carafe, mugs, and scones on a tray. This is my duty every morning for the man who owns me. He demands this simple obedience from me, and I think it actually sets his day starting right. I don’t mean to romanticize it, but it is a meaningful conjunction of our lives.

Of course today he wasn’t here, but I bore the coffee and scones anyway, setting his mug, empty, in front of his chair in the sun room, and sitting opposite “him” on the settee. I stopped short of having an imaginary conversation with him, but I did briefly envision him reaching beneath my skirt as I bend over with the coffee.

Sipping my coffee in an empty house being covered in a few inches of snow, I considered the fact that in the absence of the man who rules my life, I am fabricating him and his dominance. I am serving coffee, wearing a skirt of his preference, and sitting waiting for directions — all to please a man who isn’t here. I am that deep in my slaveness.

I finished my first cup of coffee — first of many — and I headed for the study where I do my writing. Besides my blog and slave experiences, I am writing a novel. Isn’t everyone? This is really not at all connected to my submissiveness or slavery, rather, a story of families and generations. I don’t know how good it is, but it’s fun and rewarding and fulfilling to write it.

I get some good writing in — five hours.

Soup sounded good for lunch on a snowy day, and since I could microwave it, I couldn’t screw it up, although don’t put it past me. I have literally burned things in the microwave before. Seems I punch in 90, but apparently there’s difference between 90 seconds or 90 minutes. Who knew?

Over lunch and into the early afternoon, I spent time reading while doing laundry.

Laundry is one of my slave chores, although it isn’t quite the task it sounds like. Master Michael has a laundry service that does our clothes, with pick-up and drop-off. He doesn’t define my slavery in terms of work, rather In terms of sexuality. He doesn’t want me constantly worn out from housekeeping labor. And also he likes hiring things out to services because they have people coming to the house, and it’s opportunity for Master to show me off and display me.

Anyway, the laundry that we don’t send out are sheets and towels, and that’s become one of my weekly chores. I do it on Tuesdays anyway, and today being a snow day was perfect. I swapped washer and dryer loads while reading.

I like to read a non-fiction book and a fiction book at the same time. Currently, my non-fiction is a book called Factfulness by Hans Rosling. The novel I’m reading is The Paragon Hotel, Lindsay Faye, historical fiction. I got lost in them both until about mid-afternoon.

By three-ish, I noticed the snow had stopped. Briefly there was an appearance of sun, reminding us we’re in Colorado. I thought maybe I should shovel the snow on at least the walkway out front. The driveway was another matter, and usually we have a neighbor boy, Daniel, from nearby, who shovels us out, but I didn’t know if this was actually a snow day for the school system. I could have looked it up online, but didn’t — I felt like going outside anyway.

Well, I was a sight shoveling the front walkway. Truth is, I don’t really have outfits for snow days. Master doesn’t envision me shoveling snow, or other things in the wild, like camping or hiking or climbing. That’s not my purpose, in his mind. So I don’t own anything befitting such things. I do have a down coat, and I wore that, but it’s a fashion piece. I put on some ankle boots, but they have a three-inch heel. And I’m wearing a short skirt, why?, because that’s what phantom Master Michael would have me wear. I’m obedient to a fault. Besides, really, truly, there are no other options. I don’t own jeans (right!?) or snow pants. Forbidden.

I started shoveling. It was stupid cold. I got much of the walkway done when Daniel showed up. Thank god. He looked at me funny, and I know he was tempted to laugh at my ridiculous snow-shoveling outfit, but didn’t. He’s a good kid. I promised him I’d make some hot chocolate for when he was done the driveway. He nodded and I scampered shivering into the house.

I had to figure out how to make hot chocolate without burning it. I thought maybe reading the instructions would help, and actually it did. Daniel finished, stepped inside, and said the hot chocolate was good. Really, he just enjoys looking at me. Which is cute.
He left around five.

I finished the laundry, folding the towels and changing sheets on beds. I went back to my writing, but couldn’t get back into my novel. Instead I wrote some emails. People are contacting me from the blog, and I’m responding personally. I think that’s important.

I decided I would make a dinner of chips and salsa and watch Man in the High Castle, which I’ve been binge-ing. I swear, Alexa Davalos looks like she could be Sela Ward’s sister. She’s gorgeous.

And after three hours of that, I started writing this.

It’s been a beautiful snowflake of a day. I’ve had time for myself. Quietude. A day when there hasn’t been sexual urgencies, although that’s not a complaint. While Master hasn’t been here physically, he’s been in my head and heart and body every moment.

I’ll have coffee ready for him in the morning.

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