Showing posts with label domestic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label domestic. Show all posts

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Spring Cleaning

It is absolutely beautiful out. The weather is warm, but still crisp. The sun is shining. The birds are singing. I have the windows wide open and am ready to give my new apartment a vigorous spring cleaning. If only there were someone to put me in some gear or enforce some rules on me while I do. Oh well, I guess I will just enforce them myself. What do you think guys? Balls tied; sock gagged, collared? May not be much, but it beats cleaning normally! haha

Happy Spring!

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Servitude

One of my greatest desires as a boy is to provide service. Sexual, of course, but also domestic. I find it both humbling and infinitely rewarding. For starters, I actually like to clean. With my life so full of academics, internships, jobs, etc... progress can be so difficult to measure. But when I'm cleaning, it allows me to focus on a simple task in front of me. When I'm finished, I can look at the work I have put in and see the obvious results. And when you add in that I'm serving a Man, the pay-off doubles.

Now, this semester has been pretty hard on me time-wise. With an internship, full academic schedule, and three jobs; I had to make a lot of sacrifices. One of the first things to go was servitude. In the past two weeks, the semester has slowly drawn to a close (ONLY TWO MORE FINALS LEFT!), which has freed up some time for me. One of the first things I did was email Sir Larry and BEG him to let me serve him. I'm getting excited right now, even as I type this. I begged him to train me a bit more, push my submission and my obedience. Thankfully, he did.

He instructed me to be at his place at 5. He wouldn't be home from work until around 6:30. He would leave a key for me at the desk. Instructions would be waiting when I arrived. I felt exhilarated by the prospect, and on the day of my service I would anxiously check the time every half hour or so.

I showed up at 5, as instructed. I got the key from the front desk and went up to his apartment. When I got in, I put my bag down and looked for instructions on the front table. They were there; succinct, specific, absolute. A ball gag lay on the table, next to the instructions.

boy,

Welcome. Strip to your underpants. Put the gag in your mouth. Here are your tasks:

1. Clean the guest bathroom.
2. Clean the master bathroom.
3. Clean my sling rack (use windex).

Supplies are on the kitchen counter. I'll be home around 6:30.

Sir

The simplicity of it excited me more than I can describe. There were no frills, no specifically sexy language. I was his servant, and here were my instructions.

Now, I'm not going to describe my labors in detail. No matter how much you may like this blog, I doubt any of you will be particularly enthralled by an epic depiction of cleaning a toilet. hahah. However, I do want to impart just how meaningful each labor was. It is rather difficult to describe, but I really am trying. It isn't that there is a "thrill" in preforming these activities. It's more that there is a sense of....right. I think that is the best word I can find to describe it. Ball gagged, stripped to my white briefs, on my hands and knees scrubbing a bathroom floor (no, not a bathroom floor, Sir Larry's bathroom floor)...it all just felt right. What's more, the fact that he wasn't there only furthered this feeling. It wasn't just a sex game. My worth wasn't measured by how much I could turn him on or anything like that. I was measured by my utility, and my ability to submit to a Dominant man's authority outside of a playspace.

It isn't so much the event that I am looking to describe in this post, so much as what its like to crave that sort of servitude. For me, a lot of my experience as a boy, emotionally speaking, is deeply rooted in the mentoring and fostering that happens between a Sir and boy. But as much as I am a boy who needs to be taken care of, I am also a servant that needs tasks and chores. Being stripped and gagged really helps me get to that servile headspace, but it isn't necessarily a requirement. It's more about being given an order, seeing its value to my Sir, and preforming it with enthusiasm and diligence.

I'm sorry, I know this is somewhat of a rant and one of my more poorly organized posts, but it really is hard to explain. This is one of the areas I am still figuring out about myself. Coming off of a semester that was very light in terms of submission, I find the need to obey welling up inside me more and more each day. I need chores, tasks, orders, rules, discipline....all of it. This need is emotional, sexual, and intellectual; and the more I understand it...the more I can regularly incorporate it into my life.