I have covered most of this in other posts, but there are new readers and followers, and some things have changed. Since I’ve been back with her, post-Pennsylvania, Mistress Amanda has settled me into most of our former routines but a few new ones as well, most all of them sexualized.
So here, once again, is a day in my life…
She dresses me every day, like before, which is to say that at night she lays out my outfit for the next day, placing it on the bed bench outside my bedroom.
For those new to my life, I am forbidden to wear slacks or jeans, only skirts. And Mistress has now become more fond of skater skirts on me (which happens also to be Master McKenna’s preference). A skater skirt is suitable for home and shopping, yet practical as submissive attire: short and usually pleated, it flares out from my body, making me more accessible to dominant hands.
Regular readers know I also am forbidden to wear a bra and panties. This I have never gotten used to, and being panty-less still makes me feel vulnerable wearing short skirts in public places.
A new wrinkle is that Mistress Amanda has less often rendered me fully topless around the house, which used to be the almost everyday practice. Now, she has me in button-down tops and blouses that she can open up in front, adjusting my décolletage to expose my breasts to varying degrees. Not that she has to have a reason for this, but she does have one: neighbors are stopping in to visit more often these days. “It’s not,” Mistress says, “to keep them from seeing your boobs but that you are potentially a gift to them at some point. I want them to have some surprise when they unwrap you.”
That logic, apparently, doesn’t keep her from walking me outside au naturele within sight of neighbor houses. Or displaying me in the bay window. Dominants, it seems, are not subject to the laws of logic.
We have had two rituals. Now, one she’s maintained, the other she’s changed.
I still bear coffee on a tray in the mornings, standing and waiting for her to emerge from her bedroom. She often drinks her coffee standing as I hold the tray, and she talks to me about the day ahead, for both me and her. This has been a ritual since my early days serving both Amanda and Kevin in the same house.
The other ritual, the one that’s changed, is my serving wine to her in the early evening. I’ll share about that in a moment.
In the past, I’ve had two weekly chores, but she’s added one since I’ve been back.
I have always done laundry, hers and mine, on Thursdays. I also do our linens and towels. This takes me through the morning into early afternoon.
My other regular chore is scrubbing the kitchen floor. You might read more about it here. I usually do this on Fridays. This is a hands-and-knees job involving suds and dirty water and my getting slick and sodden. I use tiny brushes to clean the crevices around tiles. I have become a bit obsessive about it, as if “my” kitchen floor is a little piece of my life I can control. Scrubbing the floor is also a spectacle of prurient interest, as Mistress often leaves her office study to watch me.
The new chore added to my weekly routine is dusting on Monday mornings. Mistress has a cleaning service that comes once a month, but dusting is not their strong suit. It doesn’t need to be done every week, but that’s sort of the point — making her slave perform unnecessary tasks, especially on a ladder in a short skirt. Apparently, Mistress has suddenly developed a strong distaste for dusty ceilings.
As I’ve reported in this space, I am now spending time on a ranch nearby learning the care and feeding of horses. Mistress Amanda has been gracious to allow me to do that, actually quite glad I am doing so. That has worked out to be on Tuesday and Wednesday mornings.
So every weekday morning is consumed with either chores and horses.
My afternoons are usually my time for writing and reading. I usually have about three or four hours to do what I want, and mostly that’s writing.
I don’t mean to suggest it’s “free time,” for a slave girl is never free, and other things come up for the doing. As I hold the coffee tray in the morning, Mistress sometimes says, “I’m gonna need you to…” and then finishes with some clerical task she needs me to do for her work. She used to employ me part time for this, but ended that for payroll and tax reasons; yet she has continued using me for ad hoc work needs here and there.
In this clerical work and in my chores, I am sexualized, dressed in some form of exposed fashion. I don’t “mind” this, as it’s my submissive place to be made this way, but as in most things, I never really get used to it. I know it’s her purpose to keep me always aware of being objectified in sexual ways.
As for the work, I don’t mind the chores, as I am happier when I’m kept busy. I’m still not sure about this dusting thing, though — it bores me.
Each day, Mistress enjoys a “happy hour,” a glass of wine. This has become a ritual for us, my serving us both glasses of wine on a tray — “bearing a tray” bookending the beginning of our work day when I serve coffee on a tray at 7:15 a.m. and the end of the day at happy hour.
The actual time for this happy hour is variable, depending on Mistress’s work schedule. She tells me when she’ll be ready for it — as early as 4:30 but often as late as 6:00.
The new wrinkle is that she has revamped this ritual to have happy hour with me “installed” at the wet bar. For those new to my blog, this post will describe it best.
At the designated time, Mistress leaves her home office and finds me already naked and bent over the wet bar in the accustomed position, my legs spread, my arms extended across the bartop, and my breasts hanging off the bartender side. I will have previously poured her a glass of white wine that sits in front of a bar stool to my side. And I will have placed, at her direction, a flogger beside her wine glass.
She locks my ankles and wrists into the eyebolts of the wet bar. And then she sits on the stool, sips her wine, and talks to me, unwinding from her day.
After a while, she stands, picks up the flogger, and applies it to my naked ass cheeks. And that’s an experience to share in another blog post.
But this is a whole new thing.
At first with this revised end-of-day ritual, I thought I would miss our times talking together on the couch. Before, our happy hour found its way onto the couch with wine and nosh plates, a time for casual conversations. This new ritual of me installed into the wet bar, seemed to get substituted for that.
But Mistress actually didn’t replace that, just moved it farther into our evening. After “attending” to me at the wet bar, Mistress unhooks me, and we both change into casual clothes. We collect what we want to eat from the kitchen and find our way to the couch. Our casual conversation is still there, the only difference is now that my sorry ass is more tender to sit on.
Some have asked about our meals together. Since neither of us cooks, we rarely sit down to a table for a formal meal. We tend to nosh, pulling things out of the fridge on small plates. We do eat together, but often casually on the patio or on the couch in the living room.
In the evenings, we sometimes read on the couch or patio (I read books, she reads magazines), or stream something on TV.
One new thing is daily walking. Mistress has always taken me out on walks, but now it’s every day. She says we need to get more exercise. I asked her if she thought I was getting flabby. “No,” she simply said, “me, not you.” (I hadn’t noticed.) Usually this is her walking me on a leash around the neighborhood. Sometimes it’s a walk up on the ridge, as I just wrote about. How I am dressed (or if), is always an adventure.
At some point in the evening she will say something like, “I think I will have you tonight,” by which she means have me sexually. Other times she may say, “I don’t want you tonight,” which I am not to take as a rejection but as a simple statement of her desire to be alone. Sometimes, she’ll say, “I want just a little taste tonight,” by which she means she’ll enjoy me for a short while, after which I am to return to my own bed. But I am always available to her as she wishes.
It isn’t always so formal, of course, and sometimes we are just girlfriend lovers. I’ve written about that here.
On average, in one mode or other, she has sex with me three or four times a week.
What I’ve written about here is our weekday routine. Our weekends are quite different — difficult to write about because they are so random and varied. There really is no routine on weekends.
Weekends, she and I tend to live in a more casual protocol, so to speak. We’ll go shopping together, see a movie, go into the city, hang out at a park, attend a neighborhood barbecue. It’s more girlfriend-ish.
But in certain things on weekends, we still live in D/s mode with each other. Mistress has me draw her a bath Sunday mornings. I guess that’s become a ritual too. I wrote about it here and here. It’s a very special time, I have to say.
Saturdays are when we do grocery shopping, and somehow she always seems to slip into her “Evil Mistress” mode at King Soopers. She finds all kinds of ways to embarrass me there. I’m always blush-faced by something she shouts across the produce aisles while holding up a cucumber.
Despite that (or because of it), it’s so good to be back in my life with her…
slave shae 