Master of mayhem – and lost socks

Do you sometimes dread going on vacation because you know when you get back the boss is going to have messed up everything?   Back in the seventies, when a database consisted of index cards and a card out of place might stay lost for quite some time, along with that customers information and records, it could be a lot worse. Now there was a reason to be worried about taking a vacation.   Still, even today the boss can really mess things up. They don’t know, can’t know, the job nearly as well as the person who does the work every day.  So it is with a Master.

Oh sure, I like to strut around, all cock sure of myself.  I can be the intellectually proficient morsel of sapiosexual delight, that nerdy little wizard of technological excellence, all large and in charge of every aspect of life under my direction.  But I am still the director, the father, the boss, the Master of people who know all of my faults and weaknesses.  I project authority and confidence, but I know there are times when those who look to me for leadership have to be thinking, well that was stupid!  If you only knew all the really, really silly and stupid ideas that have passed through my head.  Fortunately most of the bad ideas were not acted upon.  Notice I said most.. not all.

I was in gym, arranging my clothes before getting dressed and I suddenly deeply missed my slave.  Why couldn’t I have her in the men’s locker room?   Its not like she was going to do anything more than arrange things, dress me and undress me, simple things any valet would do.. keeping the Masters dressing room in order.  I grinned at the thought, how it would freak out the men there, but at the same time I was quite serious.  Damnit, why couldn’t I have my slave perform her valet services?  Yeah…silly M.

Oh.. I definitely have my silly moments…  One time I was in a clothing optional resort…nudist camp if you prefer, and I was in the field where the cars park, standing with a handful of clothes, and wondering.. now where can I go to put these on?  In my defense, when we get dressed, we don’t just walk into the house to dress or undress.  No! We go into the house, then a room in the house, where there is privacy within privacy.  It is so second nature to dress in this manner, we hardly even think about it…until you are in a field bare ass naked holding a pile of clothes and it strikes you..Silly! just put the damn things on.

The insistence that my slave sit at my feet, while I was moderating a support group whose rules said no slaves at your feet, without discussion, was a shining moment of bad judgement.  Not that the idea was bad, but the execution was horrible.  I am not a king to make decrees.  This was a thing for debate and mutual agreement.  Hopefully the lessons there stuck.

Socks and glasses I swear have a secret life as nija’s.  Surely every valet, wife, and slave has dreaded the shouted question..”where did you put my (insert thing here)?   My phone and keys I am generally good with.  I must point out I say “generally” before my slave is compelled by forces beyond her ability to control, to point out I loose these too.  But socks and glasses are my bane.  Especially reading glasses.  I have them scattered everywhere.  At some point I decided to just keep buying them rather than look for yeah.. they are everywhere.  Instead of focusing on that though, I prefer to just remember the time when I put on reading glasses and a subby cooed in appreciation.. Ooooo! reading glasses turn me on.. so sexy!  See?  much better for the Master’s ego.  Ahhhh!.. good memories!

I dare not invite my slave to comment on my silly moments or the list here would be a book.  She’s a good girl.  She knows that part of her sacred role is to promote her Master, to make him look good in public. She would never create a situation that might embarrass me or make the Master she serves appear less of an M. I appreciate that. We should support each other in this regard.  Just as many a Master would like to have a beautiful bit of eye candy at their side, I am sure many a slave would like to be on the arm of a strong, powerful and confident owner.  I am not sure why we want to have what others want, to flaunt this, to get enjoyment from the envy of others, but it would be hard to deny the reality of that very human desire.  So it is that my slave knows her place and protocols and strives to be the best slave she can in public.   Still, an invite to tell a few tales of how silly Master can be would probably would be too much fun to resist.  Izrina, my dear pet, when you read this.. NO!  ( Good girl ).

A few days ago, on the day of kayaking, I showered afterward at the home of a dear friend.  I think I spent roughly three times more time finding my things to leave than I actually spent showering.  I couldn’t find my phone, or my keys, or my socks.  I think it took about five minutes to shower, and fifteen to find where I had left my stuff… a trip to the kitchen where my boots were, the living room where I had sat to talk and took out my keys, the bath where I took off my glasses.. damn!  I am a mess without my slave.

I have done some major project management.  I have overseen complex, multi-phased system roll-outs that costs tens of thousands of dollars, sometimes hundreds of thousands.  I can be quite erudite when called upon to elucidate on the facets of power exchange or management.  I choose to think that is is possible in part because my slave helps me organize my life.  She is quite brilliant and I highly value her council as well as the organization she brings to my life.  Still, just as we all know the weaknesses of our bosses, she knows mine.  There are times as she attends to my care, I know that the broad grin across her face barely hides the thought she keeps deep down inside ..silly Master.  I must grin too.  Humility is part of what makes a great Master.


Master of her desires

I used the phrase recently: “Master of her desires”. Let’s examine this, shall we?  Master of her desires..HER desires.  I am not HER Master, she can not own me, I own her.  I am the Master she serves.  When others would say “I”, she says, “this slave”.  Me, my, mine.  These are stricken from her language. I am not HER Master.  There is nothing that my property has or controls, that is not directly or indirectly mine to possess.  Not in word or practice.  HER desires?  Is she allowed to own her desires, I ponder?  This is the way of my mind, these word games with meaning.

I have a house.  WE have a home.  She is part of the property that makes a home so much more than walls with furniture.  but HER desires. hmmm.  Yes, she may have desires.  It is the underpinning of MY desires.  To know that she possesses the hunger to consume me with her needs and lust.  Yes, she MUST have her desires.  For what she has, I will possess and I would most certainly possess her desire.

All that she is, all that she has is mine. Often I place my hand on her ass, and the words escape..mine!   Her desires are my desires.  I am the Master who will own her, and with that I  master her desires.  I will shape this living canvas to my needs, take her, mold her, yes! I WILL be the Master of her desires.

Moreover, I will be the Master THAT she desires.  By feeding her on the sweet nectar of that which she desires, I become all the more the focus of desire.  We are the carnal ouroboros, the endless cycle of ying and yang, the lingam and yoni, the tantric rhythm throbbing in the night.  I will take her desire, strip her free of even that, to stand before me in naked beauty. What may she have?

She may have nothing, so that she may have it all.