Drew’s note: Another post from boy Jack.
This isn’t a post about where in the house the slave resides, it is about finding home with those who love you, grow you, protect you, care for you, and yes even do all kinds of kinky BDSM and sex things to you, for you and with you. In my day to day role of keeping up with an athletic preteen and ALL the practices, games, and parental activities that go with that makes making time for my kink family difficult at times, to say the least. My job in trauma surgery on paper sounds amazing. In reality it takes a fine balance of focus, a clean diet, cinnamon rolls, lots of water, a bit of correctly timed coffee, and an even more importantly timed diet cherry coke in between patients, dad duties, family duties, and Sir duties on a daily basis. Those are real world things that have to be balanced. But I also have to be able to sleep at some point.
Tonight was nothing less than an average weeknight. Well, except that my time with my Master and Daddy are still rarely typical or average. I had some time because the babysitter was with my kid, so we had the usual what do you want for dinner conversation and finally settling on a new pizza place to be delivered. At some point, we picked the next episode of a marvel saga to watch while we ate. Typical. Average. Whatever.
I was allowed on the couch for dinner by Axel and, while Drew would have me naked eating from a bowl chained to the deck, Axel prefers that I am dressed and sitting with the family. We ate dinner. We talked. Average. I gathered everyone’s dishes, helped clean up and I sat back down on the couch. Before I knew it, I was out. Sound asleep out. As much as I adore Drew and Axel, I couldn’t help but feel like I had wasted precious time just being with them. That being said, I do sleep much better with them , either between them in the bed, in the sleep sack, or even in the cage. I’m just that comfortable with these two to trust them so much. It’s funny, I never thought in slavery I would find unconditional acceptance and love, but I have and it still amazes me at times. These two feel like home to me in a way my actual homes have never felt. That feeling is in the the acceptance of me and my perverted dog/slave/boy/object/friend/worker, well, all of me, which, of course, includes my professional and real life duties, my overworked (at times) self.
It was amazing sleep. It was probably no more than 20 minutes, but it was the best sleep I’ve had in the past few weeks. It was the sleep of being at home and comfortable and safe in knowing I’m owned and that these two take care of me like I take care of them (even if I just wear less clothing). It just so happens the care I needed right then was a little bit of much needed sleep and they let it happen even though I so didn’t want to waste that time. My initial thoughts were that I felt guilty for not using every precious moment to spend with my Sir and my Daddy. To which each of them responded that they are excited that I feel such a part of them that snoring on the couch during a movie was acceptable. (Maybe not those exact words)(Drew’s exact words were something like “I should spank you for saying that”). I smiled.
On the drive home I was thinking more about this and every inner thought just told me that they are my home – at least in mental form. Regardless of my current situation, kinky looking or not, those two are home to me. Simply put, wherever they are is home for an owned slave like me. That is the biggest compliment I can think of for the amazing rest and renewal I get from them…my Master and my Daddy.
Who knew slavery could be so fulfilling just by a nap?