If only she knew who she was really talking to.

Monday 

By now Valkyries and I have a much better understanding of one another, of how and who we are as people, our standards and values, and our work days. We It allows us to work much better as people, and to coexist in the silences without concern. 

Sir did tell me that what I’d taken as him being potentially jealous was him getting distracted by work. It raises a chuckle: a simple misunderstanding. At least he’s okay. 

Sir did comment too on my previous post, how “detailed” it was, and that also raises a smile. We aim to please, Sir. 

Monday was also the first time that Sir and I talked joint “missions”. It feels wrong in a way and yet, suppose that it was inevitable?

Monday evening was just as fun: having spent the day chasing around, trying to find a gas safe engineer, I then had to cook dinner without using the oven. Fortunately I managed, though cooking fish in an air fryer had a similar result to what it does if you cook it in the microwave. A lesson learned for next time. 

Tuesday 

It’s a non-work day and a non Mum day, though Mum wants to video call and chat instead. 

So we do: a mother-daughter moment, with tea and over video call. It’s nice. 

Somehow pain and empathy and forgiving ourselves comes up in conversation; Mum feels bad for not truly appreciating the kind of physical pain my brother or father or I were in. A pain that she now understands, now that she too is in it. 

I brush it off: I’m not one for holding grudges. 

But more than that, I did something smart: I used my own guilt-ridden conversations with Shadow to help set her free.

I didn’t tell Mum what I felt guilty about, because in this conversation I didn’t feel it was really necessary, and we would have both ended up in tears anyway. No, I told her the same thing I’d been telling myself: “you did what you needed to survive”. 

Mum cries harder. She did, and she knows I now know the truth. 

“Well I wasn’t expecting this” she laughs through her tears. 

Somehow conversation turns to V, though I don’t name names to protect V’s identity, he’s just my “writing friend”. Mum jokes about me keeping secrets from her and I laugh it off. 

“You would know what it’s like” I say casually. Mum works in social care. 

I spoke of our conversation of descriptive writing, and the value of history. I spoke too about an imaginary dive to an imaginary shipwreck,  and the value of sunken treasure. 

“It depends what ship the treasure is from” Mum says. 

“How so?” I ask. 

“Well if it’s from that ship? What’s it called?”

“The Titanic?”

“No! The Black … the pirate ship!”

“The Black Pearl. Yes but that’s not a real ship.”

“What?” Mum asks. I look up at her. What? 

“It’s not a real ship” I repeat. “It’s part of a Walt Disney franchise.”

“What do you mean, ‘it’s not real’?” she asks, I know she’s messing with me now. “You mean you wouldn’t want some pirate gold off of a mystical galleon?”

Fine, two can play this game. 

“And curse myself with the Aztec curse? Hell no!” I say. “And anyway, if my memory serves me correctly, far more want a mystical galleon than want the pirate gold itself”. My implication at that point isn’t purely to pirate ships, little does she know. 

Wednesday

I’m in a frump, about our use of the Obedience app, of all things. It just… it isn’t working for Master and I. The concept is great, but some of my check-in times are 11:30AM, some are 2PM, some are 6PM, and some are 11PM or later. 

Heaven forbid I was in the middle of something when a check-in time passed, BAM! More points lost and more punishment doled out. Even if it was something that benefitted Master and/or me, that didn’t matter, I was still getting punished for it. 

It felt like a system in which I couldn’t “win”, and Master, I knew, would hate that I felt that way. He wants me to want to submit to him, and he knows that’s not going to happen if I’m not happy in my submission. 

I also remembered having this same problem in my submission to L — he told me to stop punishing myself, that I wasn’t “failing”, I was struggling. That’s something that has stayed with me from our relationship, and that I will always be thankful for. 

So I wrote a journal entry on Embrace, rather humorously, I felt, called “What’s The Point?” — it was about the pointlessness of trying to stay abreast of a D/s app that I, at -380 points, seemingly couldn’t stay abreast of. I’d have to manage to complete all of my tasks and check in at all of my check-in times consistently for more than a month to stand any chance of “winning”, and we all know that two months before Christmas and with the absolute bedlam that the festivities bring then that’s highly unlikely to happen. So that would then leave me with more punishments, and even more in point-debt!

So you know, asides communication, what’s the point? 

Wednesday after work, Master tells me that he’d been talking to my “friend”. I’m immediately confused. 

I correctly guessed Mister Valkyries, but the ass is being ambiguous about it. 

“Everything okay?” I ask. 

“Yes” he says simply. I let it be. 

“But you know, we have a mutual interest” he continues. If my submission was a rock and my sanity was a pond, then the ass has just cast me deep and caused ripples with his ‘mutual interest’ talk, and he now stands at the edges, laughing.

HIs “mutual interest” talk is objectifying and primal, and my submissive identity shudders quietly inside. He knows what this does to me. Hence, it’s why he does it.  

I decide I’m not going to bite. It’s what they’d want. 

Somewhere inside, I’m between engaging in open warfare and tearing Master’s clothes off. 

“Maintenance” I eventually reply coolly, my composure just about scraped back together. 

“Exactly” he replies, as though it could never mean anything else. Fuck.

A little later and once his guard is down, I managed to trip him up. 

“So what did Valkyries want?” I ask, a totally normal husband-wife conversation to have. 

“Ahh you know, just checking in after Sunday” he says. I smile. 

“After my husband decided to attempt flash-roasting himself and the chicken at the same time” I tease. Master pokes me playfully. 

“Not funny, Mrs S!” he says. I laugh. 

“No, indeed not” I reply, “the chicken would have still been raw on the inside. You could have poisoned me”. I managed to make a hasty retreat from range before he can swat me. 

 We did have our chat about Obedience after dinner, and the main decision was to reset the points to 0, so that I’m not working myself into the ground, and so that I no longer feel like I’m failing Master in my submission to him. We also revised my check-in times, so that I now have two check-in times (2PM and 10PM), not four. Just like that, I felt a huge weight had been lifted.

But some of my rewards got revised too. 

“TV cuddles isn’t a reward” I say. Master looks almost hurt. 

“It’s a right” I say, and snuggle into him. 

“One hundred percent” he grins, and hugs me back. 

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Stay safe & have fun,

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