You’d think, after doing these for 140 days now, that I wouldn’t be able to forget about them, right? And yet! I just about did. In my defence, though, I was cleaning out the oven earlier, which took much longer than I thought, and afterwards I just sort of wanted to go bed. So this one probably won’t be super long! I was working from home today – but in my off time, I’ve basically been preparing for my inspection on Thursday. Not so much tidying – I’ll do most of that after work tomorrow – more going around and making sure there’s nothing slutty left on display. Dildos, aprons, various chastity pieces… Embroidery literally spelling out that I’m a whore – which is actually still on the wall come to think of it, I must make sure to take that down. It’s all been hidden away for a bit (mostly, anyway, embroidery notwithstanding).
I’m still not sure what I’ll be doing with Mistress Charlotte’s collar, though! She did dare me to leave it out on the kitchen counter, in plain view of any passing inspector, who will know full well that I don’t have a dog. I admit, the look on my face as I blush and stammer my way through a fabricated explanation would be pretty hilarious! And she did give me the really rather plausible excuse of “my girlfriend gave it to me as a joke”, which honestly I feel like has a pretty high chance of working. It’s just so… embarrassing, y’know? And, yes, I realise this is the same whore who has repeatedly expressed the desire for everybody to know what a filthy fucking slut he is, who’s fantasised about being taken and used by a party of Mistress Charlotte’s friends – I know it’s silly to be embarrassed by one person seeing a collar I’m not even in. And yet! I don’t make the rules, that’s just how my brain feels.
Speaking of brain feels, I was thinking about this earlier. I don’t feel all of my kinks all of the time – obviously, right? I want to be bred and stuffed full sometimes. I want to serve my purpose as Mistress’s conscious object, sometimes. I want to be chained beneath her desk and put into service as my own pleasure is utterly ignored, sometimes. All of these, of course, are subject to Mistress Charlotte’s will, as well – if she wants me to be something, then I want it too. And yet, despite all of that, I feel pretty confident in saying that I’ve thought about the word “slut” in the context of how it applies to myself every single day of the past three years. Obviously a lot of that has to do with my chats with Mistress – she calls me “slut” far more often than anything else, including my own name. But even on days when we don’t talk, I’m still reminiscing about it, or hearing it in hypnosis, or just thinking about being a slut for no real reason at all. Every day!
It’s like what I was saying at the start of this blog, how you’d think I wouldn’t forget something I do every day. And it’s not like I forget, not really. But just earlier I was chatting with Mistress about not much of anything – nothing kinky or anything, just chat. And then, in an otherwise totally vanilla conversation, she hit me with the “slut”. And it wasn’t anything quite as dramatic as a Winter Soldier programming, “slut mode activated” type of thing. It was more of just a “oh, yeah, that is me, isn’t it?”. A truly lovely feeling! I can’t forget what I am. Thanks for reading.
Service and Sluttery 