Someone, in fact, three someones asked me about how I met my slave and how we seemed to have just “dropped him into our lives” the other day. While I did answer them, I also detected a sense of something I didn’t like about the way they were asking me, so I didn’t go into much detail. That made me start thinking and I thought I would share a more genuine update on the state of the state of the DD household based on the following general questions mixed inside a longer post:
What does summer look like in your house this year and how has enslaving the boy helped or hurt?
This week, I am supposed to be relaxing. I am supposed to be resting. I am supposed to be playing. But, in truth, I am having a hard week because those things don’t come easily to me. Never did. I think I was a six year old with a briefcase for my Legos.
Anyway, I am on a three week “forced vacation” because I have enough saved time and my company is making me use it. Well, they are not really making me and I need the time to get organized and refocused after the last year, but I still feel forced to relax. For those who don’t know, my husband and I each lost our parents during the last 13 months and lost our dog, Stella, a few weeks ago, so life is ever-evolving. By the way, this isn’t a pity post, I have had far enough of that, but this is just simply setting the scene about where I am in life and the fact I now have time to help merge three extra households (one set of parents were divorced) into one. The beauty of clutter, for me, is the fact that it actually makes me less sentimental and it’s super easy to toss Axel’s Dad’s things without nary a care – kidding, but seriously, things I cared so much for that I had to box and cart them to my home actually do feel out of place here and it’s a great way to purge and start fresh in some cases.
I am not sure why I said all of that except to give more of a peek into where things stand and how things evolve. The last 12 months have sucked in so many ways, but meeting and enslaving the boy has been one of the biggest blessings to help counter all the bad. In a weird, kinky, beyond life way, I think my Mother, who you might remember was quite the character herself in her quest to see if I was fucking Thumper, sent him to me and Axel in some weird way because, as we have noted, he is exactly what we needed and he showed up exactly when we needed him. Yes, I know it’s odd to think one’s dead mother sent them a slave as a parting gift (though she did always love beautiful ginger men) so, for the record, I don’t really think he was just vaporized here out of the blue, but I do think we sometimes put out an energy, of sorts, that, if received by the right person at the right time, can help bring people into our lives. The fact that mine ticked so many muggle and fetish boxes is a coincidence. However, the fact he is a former fireman and a nurse which did help a ton in taking care of Dad was just icing on cage.
Did you know you would own jack as soon as you met him? And, did you give him any choice? Did he fight slavery?
As I read the above I am already making fun of myself as it sounds like I need to go bury some crystals under the house for good things, but I said it as a way of helping understand how this man just dropped into mine and Axel’s life and how, within a matter of days, we had this sexual top, single parent, fireman, nurse, deep voiced Southern gentleman naked, collared, and bolted to our wall while I locked away his penis away. It was fast. It was right. And, it was amazing.
It was also disappointing because it was NOTHING like all of the porn I had read about how Masters and slaves come together and live their lives. I so want to tell you a story about leaving a trail of cock rings in the hospital parking lot, him following and then me locking him away for days, welding a collar on him, forcing him to be fucked by everyone who rang the doorbell – especially UPS men – it seems they are very popular in porn – but I am coming to the realization that it may never happen like that to me. THAT is why I am asking the boy to post more about what it is like for him and I plan to do the same on my side of the puzzle.
Now I know I may have a lot of people screaming at me about how a slave is property, has no rights, should not be loved, etc – I have Master friends who feel this way and that is okay (for them), but I could not own a man that way. I love my slave and, in fact. We have been through this and while it’s different than how I love Axel, it’s still love. That said, that love and my ownership doesn’t mean that he gets to keep all his rights because, I mean, he is a slave after all. When he walks in the door here, he strips, he brings me his wallet, his keys, his phone, and his inside collar and I put three of those things away in a place he doesn’t have access to and lock one on him. As much as possible, I strip him from his outside world and take away his rights when he is here, though he knows he can always ask for them back, with good reason – something he never has done. In fact, I think he would actually like me to take away more of them. He thrives like this and I found I do too. As the years ahead move forward we will grow this more and more.
Your boy often mentions a collar but it can’t be seen?
Oh yeah, he wears a collar that has not come off of his body since September but it’s not typical and there is a good reason you don’t see it. If you look closely at his right wrist you will see it, but it’s an ID typically used by runners and bikers as a way of identifying themselves and who to call for help should they have a crash. In this case, I do have it registered to me as emergency contact, but you don’t see it because the plate contains all of his private information and those are things we don’t share. The metal clasp was superglued shut and now it’s just part of him (it’s a latex band; however, and can easily be cut off it needed).
So, with that, it’s almost time for him to stop by on his way home from work and take his place under my desk. More soon.