random acts of mindfulness

I’m up way early this Saturday morning. Can’t sleep.

Amanda and I celebrated the news last night. She brought home champagne, and later took me into her bed. I am fizzy, from both.

Also, there are too many things rolling around in my head, including stuff I’m realizing I should share with you, watchers and followers and friends. So here, rather randomly, I will unburden my mind of random stuff to you. Maybe it’ll become my own special dose of melatonin.

Another time I will find a way of describing the new house in some way that isn’t dreadfully boring. It’s exciting to us, of course, but I know it isn’t to others to hear about the rooms and spaces.

But in a way the house speaks to how my slavery to Amanda will be executed in the future. It was her primary desire to find a property that provided her outdoor spaces that were private, semi-private, and public. All three. This for the purpose of her uses of me.

This house is smallish compared to what we’re in now. But it’s got a lot of land around it, and extends back into a wooded area. There are neighbors within sight, but not real close. There’s a public road in front, though it’s a rural road, traveled more by locals.

Amanda saw all this and envisioned walking me on a leash to the back (private) and through the side acres (semi-public), and on the road in front (public).

Amanda has assured me that in our new life our relationship won’t change, but my slavery will be somewhat different. Specifically, she says, we will be socializing more with others in the lifestyle.

I don’t yet know what this means.

She is also not yet sure about how she’ll use me in the work of the new office. She is considering employing me formally, probably as a temp. I am grateful to hear her say she needs me in this endeavor. But she says she’s also thinking of how to do that in a way that maintains my submission to her 24/7.

More to come.

Some of you have emailed me and mentioned how you enjoy reading my posts while imagining me, visually, physically, in whatever I am wearing or not wearing. This has probably been more true during this summer season of my toplessness. In part it’s why I describe myself as I do — so others can “see.”

I’m sorry to have to tell you that that season of going without on top has come to an end. I could not tell you and have you still imagine me so, but that wouldn’t be true.

For Amanda, it wasn’t practical on our trip to Denver, of course, and since returning, she has laid out complete outfits for me each morning, including both a skirt and top. She has said that because it’s getting cooler here in the evenings, and as we get into fall and winter, keeping me bare-breasted will not be healthy for me. And given the move now and the craziness of our schedule these next few months, she says it would be hard for her to maintain this practice with me.

I don’t know how I feel about this. Being kept topless has been a subtle kind of domination of me, which I have liked, despite my sometime self-consciousness. It has aroused me in its daily drip of sexualization. It has been a measured humiliation when, occasionally, there are people appearances at the front door or in the yard or on the patio — random acts of discovery — and I am seen and ogled. As I’ve said before, I am not an exhibitionist, but these exposures are quietly exciting to me, even as I blush and feel the urge to cover up.

So, in a strange way, I will miss my daily experience of it. Amanda will still find her times, as she not only likes to spontaneously make me undress but likes seeing my body. In fact I am still topless when I wear the waist trainer. Amanda wants to see me in it, so for her anyway, I wear it with no top over it. And since it’s an underbust corset, my boobs are bare. And this is slavery, of course, in which nakedness happens.

But the days of me bouncing around the house and patio are gone for now. Maybe until next summer.

Amanda and Kevin have come to an understanding about my times returning to the house here — that is, to be provided to him.

I’ve written about this before, but my new reality is that I am owned my Mistress Amanda, no longer by both of them. Now she is providing me to him on some (maybe financial) basis for the next year.

Originally, he wanted me twice a month, every other weekend, coming in on a Friday evening and leaving Monday morning. Amanda said no to that —too much travel for me. She then apparently pushed the idea of one visit every two months, but for a longer stay — seven days including a weekend. But Kevin would have work on four of those days.

So it was decided I will be coming to Kevin once a month, arriving on a Thursday night, returning on a Monday morning.

This will officially start in January. Until then, both Amanda and I will be back and forth quite frequently.

I’ve learned also there are some rules Amanda has insisted on: among them, that Kevin is not to share me with anyone else — at least not without specific permission from Amanda.

In all this, I feel a bit like an escort, with a client (Kevin) negotiating a schedule with my agency (Amanda). Perhaps, although I don’t really know how an escort feels. It doesn’t feel bad to me, as such, just different. And this is part of my evolving relationship with Kevin — to him I am a “woman for sex” not a slave owned.

I keep forgetting to mention that in all of these changes, and through the move, and on into this new life, Amanda wants me to continue writing and posting about my life on here. To her, this is part of my public presentation and exposure as her slave, part of her ultimate vision for me.

I imagine we will on certain days and in certain weeks get so busy I may not be able to write as often, but I will write nonetheless. I’ll still be here.

8 thoughts on “random acts of mindfulness

  1. When I served my first household, he had a no panties rule. We wore only dresses and skirts and often long. It had a similar sense to how you describe toplessness or how it feels to publicly wear cuffs and collar 24/7. Frozen nipples are really super uncomfortable! I’ve heard piercings serve similar functionality as well. I’m sure she will find other ways to create feelings of exposure and public use.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. jade, sorry I missed this comment earlier… “she will find other ways…” yes. I am slowly realizing that I haven’t experienced Amanda’s fuller dominance yet. I think Kevin has been about consuming me, and Amanda, so far, has been about “conditioning me” to her in some way, finding with me the relational core (building my trust in her) to go much, much further with me. So far it’s been Amanda 101. I think Amanda 201, 301, and beyond is going to happen to me now. And yes, her special joy is public and presentation and humiliation.

      She is “harder” than I think I portray her to be. She can be loving too, obviously, but she has a hard edge that I probably don’t portray enough. In another comment, jade, you wrote to me: “A beautiful woman who doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut and serve is worthless to my Owner. It seems yours would agree.” And yes, Amanda would agree, and I expect I will get much more of that at times going forward. There are extremes she hasn’t imposed on me yet, but will. (I know you understand this, and also how I both dread it and long for it deeply.)

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I do understand. In my experience, men get a lot less nuanced than female masters. The are also far less moved by anything that might charm a man. It’s definitely harder serving a woman but also extremely rewarding because they always find something new to change and control. It’s the simple things that are hardest until we learn flexibility. There’s a lot more room for frustration too, because men are more likely to use some of that physically through sex. Consuming is delicious but requires the exact opposite skill set from the path it looks like you are headed.

        Liked by 1 person

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