MissessMia

Slaves vs. Submissives

A friend of mine made a statement the other day that he went to a play party and saw Domme's treating their subs like children, and he stated that this was not his idea of D/s.  My first thought was, 'Maybe they aren't subs but are actually slaves who truly crave complete control'. 

When I post about my life and that of my slave's lives I occasionally get flack from Doms because they do not approve of my posts depiciting how I live my life or of how I rule my mini-kingdom.  They seem to have lost sight of the fact that the power exchange within the D/s spectrum of BDSM is about exchange of power from the submissive to the Dominant within the confines of their agreement or contract.

First

JUDGY!  Wow.  For a collective group of people who are so often judged by the Vanilla World, and despise that judgment; you would think they would be less judgement towards their own kind. I realize that not everyone is judgmental and negative and, thankfully, very few actually are.  However, I believe in communication, especially in this case because those that are might never have thought of the differences in a different light: Ie.  slave vs. submissive.

There is no wrong way for me to live My life, or for you to live your life while incorporating D/s unless it hurts someone else.  And by hurting someone else I mean, doing damage that is non-consensual.  Entering a consensual agreement which is mutually satisfying/beneficial to both parties is exactly that:  consensual.

When I get rude messages I generally don't read past the first line or two because to spend valuable time extending negative thoughts to others, or poisoning the environment with negative attitudes, says volumes about those doing so and is a huge waste of My time.  Negativity is poison and those rabidly distributing their negative thoughts are poisonous.  I steer clear of them as though they were carrying the plague, because they are.  Healthy people reject disease, and negativity and unnecessary criticism is a disease.

If you are not part of the dynamic, do not judge what you do not know.

Secondly

CONSENSUAL

The slaves in my house are here by choice.  At any time they are free to leave. That they don't speaks volumes.  They are happy.  They have their needs met and we are all generally very happy.  That they've been given an opportunity to serve a beautiful Domme is more than they ever imagined.  They consider themselves lucky and their service to me a privilege.  There are many, many, many, people on this site and the other alternate lifestyle sites that have looked for an opportunity to serve someone desirable for years, to no avail.  Instead of feeling mistreated, my slaves thank me regularly for allowing them to be a part of my life.  

TO THE HATERS

The fact that you (I'm speaking to the haters) wouldn't sign up for a life serving Me however I see fit does not mean it does not make many submissive men ecstatic for the opportunity to do so.  

 
Again, don't judge what you are not part of, it makes you an ignorant ass.

TO BE CONTINUED

Things like this make a Domme's day.  he always shows up with presents, never complains, just waits patiently to hear from Me, and then writes beautiful things.  A perfect start to an outstanding sub:

RULES

You do not mouth off, you show respect, you do what you’re told, you are grateful for what you are given, and you do NOT complain.

I use corporal punishment.  In my house, you fall in line or you get the belt or some other equally wicked substitute which you will NOT enjoy.  I promise.

These simple sentences are the foundations for all of My rules.

In the event you are in the hopes of serving Me you should know EVERYTHING is My way.  I don't cater to submissive fetishes, I don't normally jump right into sceneing with a new submissive, I do what I want when I want to do it, always.

If you are not truly a submissive who's reward comes from service itself you will not be happy serving me because D/s in my household is all about what I want.

bucket's typical day consists of cleaning the house, making and serving me every meal, rubbing my feet, painting my nails, doing my laundry, and running errands.  he has a journal to do every night which generally takes at least an hour and he does all the grocery shopping, cooking, and working.  he pays all the bills, does all the yard work, and services all the cars.  Maybe once or twice a week if he is extremely lucky I allow him to become my bedroom entertainment but that didn't happen until he served me faithfully for a full month; morning, noon, and night.  

he sleeps with some type of reminder of who owns him, whether tied up in bed or in a kennel.  he is often sent to the store pegged by one thing or another, he wears a cb most of time except his naughty bits are so small they fall off so I have to use a girl's cb.  He rarely gets the opportunity to orgasm and even then can't manage to achieve it in the very limited time in which he is allowed.

he is not allowed to watch tv or use the internet without express permission.  he usually only gets the chance if I want company or my feet rubbed while I watch tv.  he never gets a choice in what is on tv or is he allowed to touch the remote without direct instruction.  he is not allowed to text anyone without express permission (work is the only exception) and he is not allowed to speak to anyone other than myself when we are out together.  he is not allowed to touch the menu in restaurants unless I allow him to.  Normally, I choose all of his food but if I am feeling particularly generous I will allow him three choices on the menu.  Even then, I generally disregard his choices and order what I want him to have because his choices are horrible and he needs to be in better health.  he is on a forced diet and has lost 20 pounds since under my rule.  he is not allowed to sit on the furniture unless vanilla are present.  he pretty much lives to make me happy and he is the happiest pet on earth.  If this doesn't sound like you...... you've been warned. :)

Saturday Night at my house.   BYOB.  Food and drinks.  Pool table and me, of course.

=====================================================

I have been sick, in bed, for the past three days and I am bored so I found this amusing.

When people, like me, day dream about 24/7 D/s they don't fantasize about idiosyncrosies and personalities, and how sometimes life can just get kinda casual when it's late at night, and he is sitting on the floor next to the bed, and I'm in the super huge comfy bed, and I can't find anything on Netflix or cable to watch.  

I am laying in bed and am extremely relaxed and just want to watch t.v., but we've tried everything and we've found 100 channels of junk that we aren't interested in and nothing is worth watching.  We stare at each other for longer than we should, hoping that the other is going to suddenly spout out the perfect solution to our dilemma.  Then, suddenly, all the staring pays off.....  

"I know!"  I exclaim jubilently.  "We are the Millers!"

"But that's on Blue Ray," says buckets.

"I know."

"But there isn't a Blue Ray player up here.  The only one is in the living room," buckets replies again; and confounded by the logistics of the whole thing he stares blankly at me.

"I know," I repeat.

He turns his head back and forth the way a dog does when it can hear sounds, and it knows you're trying to communicate something, but it just can't figure out what you're saying.

Finally, in a sing-song voice, with a huge smile that tells him he is being very, very slow, I reply, "It's not built in."

Reality finally dawns on him and he scurries off to fetch the Blue Ray.

This really was just as much fun as the rest.

A PEEK

I live in a house with my very lucky slave named buckets.  We appear vanilla to the world. We don't sleep in the same bed (Actually, he has only been allowed on My bed three times: once to rub my feet, once to rub my back, and once to be my entertainment) and the world believes that we are STRICTLY roommates. 

buckets is a cuckold and has had zero orgasms since we met.  His naughty bits are truly non-existent (think inny instead of an outy) and don't work due to diabetes.  This is part of the reason for his lack of release, but it is also because I believe that slaves kept chaste and denied orgasms make much better slaves.  The constant sexual desire keeps Me at the forefront where, we all agree, I absolutely should be.  Prostate milkings are utilized, orgasms might be allowed if he could comply with my time constraints, but so far, no luck.

his day starts and ends with making me happy.  

Coffee makes me happy.  It makes me even happier if I don't have to wait a single minute upon awakening to have it, which is why I wake up to perfect coffee service every morning. 

buckets makes the coffee early every morning.  After freshly grinding the beans, he starts it brewing and pours it into a carafe where it is kept warm.  Once he has put the napkins, cup(s), carafe, vitamins, and pretty gifts on my tray, he leaves the tray outside of My bedroom door, because:  1.)  He is not allowed to come near my door without first texting and asking permission, and 2.) He is not allowed to disturb my sleep.

This whole coffee system is particularly wonderful on days he works because I still have fresh coffee waiting for Me as soon as I want it and I absolutely love it.

The only fly in the ointment is when I have an overnight guest.  Sometimes it gets a little awkward explaining why there is a beautiful coffee tray sitting outside my door waiting for me from "roommate".... with 'Highness' handwritten on one of the napkins and surrounded by little ink drawn heart-birds.  

And then, there is the envy of my friends.  They want to know "How do you do it?" or "Where can I get one?" or "You are so lucky!"  (Luck truly has nothing to do with it......)

Which brings me to........in the case of my morning coffee tray, buckets is brilliant at going the extra mile.  There is always some kind of gift, from beautifully decorated, specialty sugar cookies (which I love to look at but feed to the dog), to flowers, or Lindt chocolates, or whatever. There is always something special that makes My tray pretty and makes it obvious that his thoughts are always of making me happy; and THAT, I truly love.

While straightening my hair in the bathroom, I hear the shovel outside my window and look to see buckets, my slave, shoveling the patio.

I knock on the window to get his attention, when he looks up, I ask in my most stupified tone ever, "What are you doing?"

He looks around as though he has to double check what he is doing and says, "I'm shoveling the patio so that you won't have trouble getting to the hot tub."

"Stop, right now, and go back to the list of things I gave you to do!"

He turns away from me at the window and with a roll of eyes prepares to put the shovel down.

I am flabbergasted because, until now, he has been perfect at doing whatever he is told without an attitude.

"Did you seriously just roll your fucking eyes at me?!?!?!  Are you fucking kidding me?" I can feel my blood begin to boil and pinpricks begin in my head as my blood pressure reaches insane levels. 

I finish my hair while all the while shaking my head at how insanely pissed I am that my slave just rolled his eyes at me for being properly corrected.  The list he had was numbered by order of importance for God's sake.  Why would he just get it in his head to decide to do something else and then, when he is chastised for it, dare to get an attitude?  

I am shaking with rage as I finish my hair and proceed downstairs. 

Get your ass over there on the floor, kneel, head to the floor, with your pants pulled down to your knees.

I leave him like that for a while so that I can calm the fuck down.  I need to discipline him, not abuse him so I wait for my anger to become "in check" before I take him in hand as he so clearly needs to be taken.

Happily, we just bought a new leather paddle.  The metal rivets embedded in the leather give it a nasty bite, which I know firsthand because I try everything I use first on myself, which will make it perfect to deliver the message that I want delivered.  

Message:  Don't EVER roll your fucking eyes at me again.

https://.com/events/212367  Syracuse Christmas D/s Party