Journal 3 – When Master is gone…


i wanted to write a little lovey duvey today…

i know exactly when He is going to leave. i know exactly when He’s thinking He should leave… my heart pounds the moment He sighs… it’s all unspoken with my Master. i know it’s almost 2 o’clock the instant His beautiful lips purse and he inhales sharply, His full brows only the slightest bit furrowed. And my heart sinks to my stomach as He breaths out heavily.

And He says the words which don’t need to be said, “Okay, it’s time”. Every time, i blink tears from falling, from revealing how desperately i crave, want, long… need for Him to stay.

i try to prolong the goodbyes, it only makes the emptiness grow quicker the moment the door is closed. it festers throughout the day. All i can do is focus on my duties. i want to make absolutely sure everything He has instructed me to do is beyond perfect.

He is far from a misogynist, and it’s not like He’s all about having a “homemaker” for a wife. But there are duties that must be done, since i am unable to do anything but procrastinate, entertain our child, obviously write a shit ton, and look at the front door with longing every twenty minutes… doing house work is a rule. And in that rule certain protocols are in place. If these rules and protocols are broken, it is understood that i will punished.

i take great pride in everything my Master tells me to do, i am not fearful of my Masters return, i am not worried i’ll get “beaten” (ie abused) if everything isn’t according to His standards. In fact, i’ve never been punished on the subject of housework. i don’t need to be.

The rules are simply in place because i need to be told what to do, it completes me. Call me immature if you will.

i wonder what He does while at work as i smooth the wrinkles of His shirt, it was still warm from being dried. i remember a time when i would pull a shirt out of the dryer cold and wrinkled and put it on without a second thought. i hang his shirts making sure they all face the same direction, none are inside out and the colors graduate from white to black. These seemingly overbearing steps, for the average person, i’ve just taken to obey my Master fill my heart with pride. The little things, the things most easily overlooked which are the hardest to form the habit of doing have become calming to me, ritualistic even.

As i folded pants with the seams just so, the washing machine does it’s spin cycle, which is much more exciting than what you may think, i try to move objects that might fall for this very reason, but of course the toy box fell on me… i caught it and with a little effort put it back atop the dryer, the pretty pink rope i so love to be adorned with was poking out.

i thought of my Master and what He has said before leaving for work, “if you want to get laid tonight, you’ll put the cinch on.” my clit throbbed, i took a sharp breath and i continued my duties.

i’ve become very efficient at making the house spotless fairly quick. After all it’s not much, and having the rule to follow 24/7 makes me much better at picking up after myself. In many ways i feel not only accomplished and more mature but also that i’m a better person, happier indeed.

i give our son a long bath, it is after all, his favorite time of the day. This gives me time (as he is capable of playing in the tub without support) to apply eyeliner, mascara and a lip color chosen by my Master. No foundation, only on rare occasions am i asked to do this. my Master doesn’t like lots of makeup. i take great care to make precise lines and perfect lashes, remembering that He doesn’t like my lashes to stick together but there has to be enough mascara to run and smudge. If a mistake is made, i rub the makeup off and start over, more carefully.

i feel like i’m getting ready for a first date every night, but the elephant on my chest of anxiety isn’t there. i’m doing everything perfect, it has to be perfect. What makes this feeling better than a real first date? i know this person, i’ve puked in the middle of scenes in front of this person, more than once and sometimes on Him. As perfect as it has to be, i’m not afraid of being judged by Him, i’m not afraid to be imperfect because He has made me feel perfect. He believes i’m perfect and i’m learning to believe as He does, and that feeling is beautiful.

The moment i hear the key in the door, i’m awakened, my day is no longer dull, my longing is about to be satisfied. i’m almost panting with desire to be examined by
my Master, to be graced with His presence, to see the look of approval on His face when He looks around the house and places His gaze on my body.


interested in what the cinch is? this is my favorite daily breast cinch i love and i recommend it. It’s super easy to put on by yourself! The link to a photo tutorial is down there \/


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s