Well! I worked from home again today. Partially because I wanted to get my three goddamn loads of washing done, and the weather was entirely too shitty on the weekend to get it done then. But also because, truth be told, I was kind of curious about making the most of Mistress Charlotte’s punishment for yesterday’s less-than-perfect soufflé. I think I wrote my last blog before she issued it, so to recap:
Yup! Now, she was kind enough to let me sit at my desk for work, which I really appreciated. The problem was… everything else. Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than used to being on my knees at this point – I’ve been drinking from a bowl on the floor for… six months? Wait, that can’t be right. It is?! Christ alive. Anyway, the inevitable passage of time aside, I’ve been pretty comfortable with long periods of kneeling. A useful skill for any slave – sometimes I’ll need to be down there for a while, either for worship or using-my-throat purposes. But that’s not what this really is! Kneeling to put my clothes in the wash is one thing – walking on my knees down the (wooden-floored!) hallway to the bathroom and back is quite another. It’s quite a different sort of pain to the aching cramp of extended kneeling. Carpet might not have been so bad – but wood? Fuck me, it hurt. Just the repetition of my whole body weight down on bony knees on hard floors, eesh. Punishment indeed.
And, what’s worse – for the first time in my life, it made me regret being as tall as I am (just a little, anyway). Because, you see, even on my knees, I’ve still got a decent amount of height. Mistress and I once estimated, using lightswitches visible in the background of a kneeling photo I sent her, that I’m about as tall on my knees as she is, full stop. And that, regrettably, is tall enough to reach a bunch of stuff in my apartment – which meant there was no need to stand up to reach it – which meant I got many less reprieves than I might have otherwise. The good news, though, is that kneeling in the shower means I’m guaranteed to actually fit – admittedly not a problem in this one, but I’ll have to remember that for the future as an alternative to bending myself in half. Showering on my knees actually did feel rather sexy, for reasons I can’t quite articulate. Something to do with kneeling at Mistress’s feet in the shower, in my rightful place, hot and wet and filled with arousal unending. Who can say?
The other thing about today, is that it was a Commando Day! Which wasn’t much of a big thing, admittedly, on account of me working from home. But! I did head over to a friend’s for dinner and board games, which was delightful. And on the way home, I started writing this. And between reflecting on the submissiveness of the day, and browsing through my “hot things Mistress has said to me” notes trying to recall one thing in particular, I… certainly noticed the lack of underwear, shall we say. It was rather late, so there was nobody around to see me – but damn, did I feel a slut. Horny and underwear-less, sporting a decent-strength boner in public. It’s not, like, exhibitionism – 1) because there’s nobody around, 2) even if there were, I’m not so insanely well-endowed that they’d notice unless they were right in front of me. But it’s still public enough, slutty enough, that it really makes me feel it. I like to imagine that’s what Mistress had in mind when she first implemented this rule. Not that that would have any bearing on me – I simply obey, no need to question. Exactly how it should be. Thanks for reading.
Service and Sluttery 