Wednesday, 19 February 2014

Second Sabbatical In Slave Land: Lunchtime Demerits, Blurring Lines and Back Doors

Around lunchtime, I'm working away at an application for a contract job (I'm "on the bench" at the moment) when the doorbell rings.

...she sits at the kitchen table and talks a little distractedly
about work.... she's emphatically 
not in any kind of
erotic mode
Xena sweeps into the hall, every bit my high-powered executive wife. "I forgot my laptop... make me a cup of tea... I'll have my sandwich in the kitchen."

She sits at the kitchen table and talks a little distractedly about work; I just happen to be present at a busy lunch with herself. She's emphatically not in any kind of erotic mode.

I've learned the hard way never to try to blur the lines. Even when we were courting, an attempt to snog in these circumstances would have been met with an irritable brush off.

However... I notice that Xena is cheerfully giving orders and taking it for granted that I will run around after her. She also listens to my "interim report" like a boss - I've bought this for dinner, plan to do that task.

"What did you want me to do today?" I ask innocently. "Declutter that drawer then do the lounge, was it?"

She looks around the kitchen and frowns. "Did you dust the walls?"


It's rather more than I can imagine enjoying.
"What's that?" She points an accusing hand. There's a big strand of cobweb hanging from the ceiling.

"Oh. I missed that," I say. Then perfectly natural; "I think that's a demerit."

"I should think so!" she says. "And one more demerit for not having the bed made."

I produce the clicker and solemnly add two more to the count. "Thirty five," I say, ruefully. It's rather more than I can imagine enjoying, and I still wince when I think of the last time Xena gave me a whipping.

"That's mounting up. You'll have to schedule time for it."

"Yes I will," she says with a malicious smile, kisses me, and heads out to work.

And that is the glory of a demerit counter. It's not overtly sexual or erotic. It doesn't drip with sticky fingered fetish. It doesn't violate her practical  matter-of-fact mood. And yet it's a back door into Femdom.

And my god as I type this, I am hard in my chastity cage.

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