Saturday, 20 April 2013

Tension mounts without DD


The tension in our house is palpable right now. We’ve gone several months with no real disciplinary procedure in place in a relationship that had been operating strict DD regime.

We get on great without it, there’s absolutely nothing wrong between us. There’s no arguments, no stress. But somehow, we’re better with it. It’s a case of me remembering my place and Mistress enjoying hers, which is how it should be with one submissive personality and one dominant.

So why the tension? We’re both very busy right now with our respective jobs and consequently everything else is being overlooked. That means I’ve not been remembering my place.

I feared things were coming to head. One night, two weeks ago Mistress came in and as I helped ease her, tight-fitting over the knee black boots off, she looked down at me with a frown. “These boots have needed a good polish for some time.”

“Yes Mistress.”

She said no more. She didn’t have to.

I’d been out on business all that week, getting home late each night, but one morning when we were fixing breakfast she said: “Do you realize I cooked every meal this past week – and did every bit of washing up?”

Last week we barely saw each other. I was out some days, she was away others. While I was out one day a package arrived in the post. I got a call. “I’ve just taken delivery of a package from the postman. You didn’t tell me to expect a parcel. What is it?”

“It’s a mackintosh. For me.”

She knew that.

“What did we agree about buying more raincoats?”

I tried to explain that it was brand new, old stock and the kind of shorty black raincoat I could wear out shopping so it would get used.

Mistress pointed out I never wear anything like that in public apart from SBR raincoat – and then only when we’re on holiday. “Another waste of money,” I heard her say.

She was right as usual. I didn’t like the look that came with the comment.

We were watching TV and I took the controls and changed the channel.

“Excuse me,” she said with the look.

“Sorry,” I said handing her back the controls.

“Sorry?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Sorry Mistress.”  

Despite these and several other exchanges, we still continue our lives with no return to corporal punishment.

But I’m not about to ask if Mistress will correct me. As I’ve said before, I now dread her cane. But that’s a good place to be. It means something special now. I always wanted to experience real corporal punishment and I think that’s the point we had reached before this sudden dip.

I’m pretty certain Mistress will revert back to her full authoritarian ways when it suits her. And when that happens, I’m sure I’m going to regret it!

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