A day in the life.....

This is a copy of a posting I made on the SD! website. You can view the whole debate here.
No two days are quite the same. I do not live to a micro-managed schedule but there is a basic framework to my day. At certain times My Lady wants her tea/coffee/cocoa whenever. If there is laundry to do, she puts it in the machine. She decides what is to be washed. Once the machine has completed its cycle the the slave puts it out on the line then irons it when its dry.
Likewise with meals. My Lady decides what we shall eat and when. She prepares the meals. She likes to be in control of what food is being used. The slave, - me, - cleans up afterwards.
Usually after what chores there are to be done are completed, My Lady dismisses me until the next scheduled time. During that I am "on call". Sometimes I can be on the other side of town when called. I have to simply drop everything and go to My Lady. Sometimes it is to meet her off the bus with her shopping or, as happened only yesterday deal with a crashed computer.
There is some ritual to remind me I am Slave; I must always genuflect when coming into or departing from her presence. I must ask permission to eat, sleep, come, go, etc. These are small things and when out in public it is masked by expressions such as, "Is it OK if I....."
Most of the time to all intents and purposes, my day is not much different from a vanilla one. But for the continuous underlying thread of a life of willing servitude

The Art of Torture

“Make no mistake,” a Dom once told me, “torture is an art.” He was of course talking in a BDSM context and, I hasten to add, he was not my Dom but a guy who knows I am a slave and can therefore speak freely.
He went on to explain, “You get a sub, tie her up then torture her. She gets her kicks by being tied up and as part of it is expecting the torture. This is where the art of it comes in.
“Ask yourself a simple question, do you torture her for real or pretend? If its for real then you might go too far and injure her or at best not let her enjoy it. But if its pretend, its still got to be convincing. Tie her to a rack and stretch her a little. No real pain there but her imagination can do the rest. Really, in a dungeon its all too easy to contrive. Its all set up. You get tied up and the promise of being tortured is the turn on.”
I admit I had to agree with him there. No need to suffer real torture, just enough to make you aware of it will do. The Dom gets his kicks doing it and watching me writhe and scream while I play out my submissive fantasy and not getting hurt too much.
Then he asked me, “What if you were my slave and I wanted to torture you at home? I’d have to use what’s to hand, wouldn’t I?
“I mean like, I might have a whip so I could whip you, but if I haven’t, then I’d have to use something else like a belt or maybe a bamboo cane that you use for the tomato plants.”
I began to get the idea. Candle grease is a well known method as is hot water and ice. Being sat in a cardboard box then let out is an improvised Room of Little Ease. So to conclude he said, “The art of torture is to make the sub feel it but not too much, yet he has to feel he has been tortured”.

My Lady Wife has never beaten or tortured me in a ritualistic way. That is, never tied me up then done things to me. That would create in me a frisson of anticipation which would turn me on but not necessarily please My Lady. But I have received the occasional unexpected sting from a bamboo cane across my buttocks while I have been washing up.

Today was a classic. Now the summer weather is here I am in shorts again. This morning I brought My Lady her breakfast tea. She sat in her armchair stirring her tea while I stood waiting to be dismissed. Then she put the hot teaspoon on the back of my naked thigh. The pain was exquisite. I tensed to accommodate it until it passed. The look on My Lady’s face was one of pure sadistic pleasure. “That’s just for being a slave,” she said, “ you may go.”
“Thank-you My Lady”. I genuflected and returned to the kitchen.
Was I thanking her for being tortured or being dismissed? - or both? You can decide.

Returned

I have been away with Lady Wife for ten days visiting family, attending a wedding and so on.
My Lady was very stressed at the beginning and did she let me know it! I couldn’t do a thing right by her. All attempts to be her willing slave were resisted. Any attempt to help her in any way was seen as a way of pointing out her inadequacy. If I backed off I was being a lazy slave. It was like this for most of the time.
Just how does a slave deal with this? To answer back is unslavelike and invites even worse retribution. Being blindly submissive and passive doesn’t help much either. It needs a bit of intelligent working through, some might call that patience.
Anyway, by the end of our time the pressure on My Lady eased considerably and I was better able to slave for her.
By the way, being among a lot of people not in-the-know meant I was unable to demonstrate the outward signs of being a slave. I wore my collar of course, but the kneeling, genuflection and other signs had to be “taken as read.” By the final few days I was once again carrying her shopping etc, making tea and generally running around after her.

This morning, now we are back home, I rose early and she had breakfast in bed while I did the chores. We restored the formal framework. At lunchtime I was commanded to kneel before her for a Chapter of Faults. She told me that even while she was stressed out I had been a good slave. She declared, “There are no faults”.

Thank you My Lady.

Back with Lady Wife

I am back in my normal routine. Lady Mistress refers to my wife as Mistress Number 1, herself as Mistress Number 2 and Good Lady as Mistress Number 3. But it is No. 2, Lady Mistress to whom I am answerable in matters of discipline.
I will by away from internet access the next few days.

Greek Art

We are in a museum showing replica casts of Hellenic sculpture.
There is a relief of a lady in a chair being served by her slave.

SLAVE: That could be you and me My Lady, if the slave wore a tunic instead of a chiton.

LADY MISTRESS: Oh I don’t know, Slave. I think you’d look nice dressed like that. It really is you.

ME: Yes My Lady. [thinks] I wonder where this is going to lead…

To collect a cat

Good Lady is buying a cat from a breeder out on the North Foreland by the Thames Estuary. Lady Mistress drove and took Slave with her. We stopped for lunch at a fishing village not far from Southend-on-Sea. The pub is called “Ye Olde Smack”. Lady Mistress thought this an appropriate place for Slave. She often hints at beating her slave but never does.
This evening we go to London.

On Wicken Fen

Lady Mistress took her slave for a holiday ride. Slave is treated to a meal at a museum where the history of the Fens is on view. Later we visited the centre at Wicken Fen some miles north of Cambridge where the fenland is being allowed to revert to its wild flooded self. We spent a wonderful sunny afternoon there and finished with a cream tea at the Visitor Centre. Slave offered to pay for this or at least his share but was told is told he will pay by being given a beating this evening.
Slave saw the riding crop on the coffee table at Lady Mistress’ house and spent all evening anticipating the whipping which was never given.
My Lady is a true sadist.