Silent Too Long...

I find myself being too easily drawn into my own silence. That inner belief that what I have to say often doesn't matter, a self defeating expression of opinion. Opinions get a bad rep. Largely be cause they so often are too easily taken as fact or the way it is. I have an opinion. Hell, I have lots of opinions and I try to keep them honest to themselves. 

They are the expressions of how I see the world and how I carry my self within it. They are as important as the opinions of others, no more, no less. I've had the chance recently to have a couple of friendly debates regarding belief and such. It was refreshing to remind myself that there is always the chance to express your opinions without having to wield them like weapons with which to beat ones opponent down. To listen to the ideas and opinions of others without feeling like they are trying to reprogram oneself.

As a result, I have found my voice again. My desire to share my opinion with all of you. As many of you who have followed us over the years may have noticed, I sometimes go through periods of this silence. I thank you for sticking with us. 

I wanted to take this opportunity to once again publicly express my deep appreciation for my creature. Owned slave and property, artist, mother of two, and more... And yet she always serves with such a smile, no matter what I subject her to. Don't get me wrong, there is a fair amount of whining too. After all, what is a torture without a fair amount of begging and sobbing? And, as I've mentioned before, my slave is the type where the true reward, the pay off, is not necessarily in the action, but being helplessly forced into and through the situation. There is a lot of fun to be had in that. 




I am continually impressed with her and more and more grateful with each passing day. As most of you with children know, it is hard to the point of impossible to have any kind of regular opportunities for play. As such, our moments continue to be stolen evenings with nigh but a couple of moment's notice. That too, has weighed into my losing batted against my silence. Not much to say if there is not much going on. 

Isn't there though? I mean, just because we haven't had the chance to play as regularly as we like, does that imply that there is nothing to say? Of course not. I never intended this blog to only be a forum for recounting our sessions. Don't get me wrong, I love when I have the chance to do so. But is that all you come to read about? I think not. This blog is about our lives, our D/s house, and our O/p lifestyle. Some of the most important and impressive moments can be found in the simple, daily routine. 

For instance, house work has always been a weak spot for my slave, she's never been much of a housekeeper. In our past efforts, I have tried a number of direct approaches; from the somewhat usual punishment/reward systems to taking on more and more of the house work my self in a dual effort to guilt her into better performance and keeping things as simple as possible for her. 

After this year's Thunder in the Mountains, creature posted about her Ah Ha moment about being less passive in her approach to serving. I believe she may have even mentioned the chore list that she herself came up with in an effort to serve my household needs from a self directed system. I am pleased to report that this system is working well. Giving her the chance to direct herself into the cleaning needs, without the threat or promise of me standing over her whip in hand, has allowed her to face her domestic demons in a way I have not seen in the past. I've even caught her on her knees in the kitchen, scrubbing the floor with a rag and a small brush completely unbidden. My only complaint there is that I wasn't expecting it and didn't have my camera handy.

We have a routine in the mornings that I particularly enjoy. Each day, I wake up about a half hour before the slave and go about my morning business. I have a quick stretch, loosening up those tight muscles from the night's rest. Then, the slave's alarm goes off and I pull her from the bed to fall naked to her knees. Then, she leans forward and places a kiss upon each of my bare feet in greeting and gratitude. A small ceremony each day, but a powerful and remarkable one. 

Of course the depth of our kinky lifestyle cannot be measured only in the earth shaking scenes we get to have. No doubt they are big parts of it, but not the whole by any stretch. How we are in the in between moments can be much more telling. And I am pleased with my little slut. Always...