I really don’t assume people are so fascinated with my life that they care about Shae trivia, but sometimes there are just odds and ends I feel like collecting into a post. So here — a potpourri of randomness.
It’s been rainy here on and off this week, and it seems it will be so again today (Sunday) and tomorrow. I often like rainy days, and here in Colorado we don’t get enough of them, but after a year of COVID isolation, this is a bit frustrating.
Otherwise it’s a swell Memorial Day weekend.
Mistress A, perhaps because we are destined to a day indoors, has me collared and heeled and naked, just because she can. Recently she’s taken to having me wear a waist chain, and today she has attached to it a jingle bell, positioned just above my bared pussy.
Such I am as I write this.
One bright spot: Amanda bought me a new collar. She ordered this weeks before I went to Kevin’s, and it arrived Tuesday.
It’s made of stiff leather with a large metal buckle in back, and a massive O-ring hanging in front. It is red, deep red. The collar is wide, some two-and-a-half inches of stiff leather sheathing my neck, and while it’s not a posture collar, yet I feel its constriction when I look down.
Bold and loud and obvious, this collar draws attention and clearly states that I am a submissive slave.
As if that wasn’t perfectly obvious already.
I’m wearing this collar right now as I write, and I feel it each time I long down at my keyboard.
I’ve been writing a lot lately, and my juices (to be clear, my creative juices) have been flowing through both my fiction and my blog writing. It’s been good.
I use a program called Scrivener, and it allows me to keep my ideas in separate folders in front of me in a left-hand pane, and I can flip to them instantly. I use MS Word for other things, office stuff, of course, but I find Scrivener so much better suited to creative writing with different pieces and parts.
Anyway, the point of this is to say I keep a number of blog ideas active at the same time, currently more than a dozen. It works for me to go from one to another until I land somewhere with the creative insight on that piece to continue what I wrote before and perhaps finish it.
It’s a writing tip I’ve offered before — don’t fixate on just one writing thing, but keep several going at once. That way if you get blocked on one, your writing might open up on another.
The caution, though, is that too many open projects can become distracting. I sometimes find myself flitting from one to another so often and quickly I get boggled and don’t get any real writing done at all.
So, seems that Kevin called Amanda the other day. He normally phones her in between my visits to discuss his schedule for me the next time, but this call was earlier than usual, and made me wonder about things.
She won’t tell me about the substance of it, which is fine — I don’t have the right to know., and sometimes she wants me to be reminded that I don’t have that right. But of course, I immediately fret over if Kevin has some problem with me.
I go back to her later and ask, “With Kevin. Was I OK?”
If she were less benevolent, she wouldn’t say anything, letting me stew in my self-doubt. But she doesn’t want me to agonize over something like that — she plays with my mind in other ways.
“You’re fine, Shae,” she says, “It’s nothing like that.”
OK, then. Still, I’m curious.
Upcoming slave and writing agenda:
It seems Amanda is waiting to hear from another neighbor as to whether they will be able to join us for afternoon tea on Thursday. I’ll write something about that, of course.
I will be resuming my time with Master McKenna next Saturday.
My personal writing project now is to focus on this whole thing with Master McKenna, and try to capture is personality and style. It’ll probably be a number of parts, posts.
Mistress A seems to be keeping me today in high protocol. She has me speaking to her as “Mistress.” And she has me dressed this way — or undressed, as is the case.
I think this is in response to my earlier Marisa Tomei impression in My Cousin Vinny, my being likewise petulant and demanding but in my case involving demands for spanking and caging. I told her I was sorry for that — not for telling her those things but for my tone of demanding them. Thankfully she didn’t feel it rose to the level of being punishable, but I was on the edge.
My writing is interrupted by her calling me to refill her coffee. She is, thankfully, not working, rather reading a novel in the living room. She needs rest and time not working. I think she is calling me because she wants me to serve her and because she wants a hot cup of coffee, but also because she wants to hear my jingle bell as I come trotting to attend to her.
Also, also, because she wants to see the slit of my pussy.
This last time, I delivered her a fresh coffee, and she had me stand there while she read her book. After a short time, she reached over and fondled my pussy, her thumb creasing my slit between my pussy lips.
She went back to reading.
I said, “You know, you could continue doing that.”
She laughed and said, “I’m done with you. You can go now.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
So I am back writing again. Ready to wrap this up…