Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Rituals and consequences

If you are a regular reader, you would have gathered that Master is at his strictest out in public.  Trips to the grocery store are fraught with tension, sidelong glances his direction as I take that tentative step just beyond the permitted distance away from his side I am allowed to stray to pick up something shiny and interesting, pausing a few moments too long to read a label. 

He pushes the cart.  I am not allowed to touch it.  I am required to walk at his side and carry the grocery list.  I am required to stay within arms reach.  If I must move beyond that distance I must ask and usually he says no, usually he turns the cart around and we have to go back up the aisle.  Items placed in the cart are frequently picked back up and examined and approved.  I then mark it off the list and announce the next item on the route.

He takes the things out of the cart and puts them up on the conveyor belt thingy.  I stand and write the check.  He packs the grocery bags.  And again as we walk out I am required to march in step, locked at the hip to him, my hand on his arm just so... not too tight... not too loose.  At the car I not allowed to help transfer the groceries into the trunk of the car.  I am required to go sit in the front of the car.

Woe to me if I fuck any of this up.  Retribution is immediate and public.  This Saturday I was blithe, unfocused, loose and sloppy.  Over and over I strayed too far.  Repeatedly I sighed and shot him less than submissive glances of frustration as he growled and yanked me back by arm or hair.  Finally we are by the soup and he has his arm locked around my neck, the other in my hair twisting my face up to look at him and was interrogating me about what the fuck was wrong with me... and I spied this lady... with a horrified look on her face, revulsion and disgust wrinkling up her brow,  and I giggled and whispered to Master that he was getting looks.

And he let me go and I straightened my hair I gave her an apologetic smile and told her... "We are just playing."

Later I commented to Master I should have said, "Sorry, sorry... I promise I will be good.  Please don't hurt me again!!!"  Which got me a promise for more private consequences when we got home.

I must admit, that is the first time we got a disapproving regard.  Usually people smile or laugh.  More than once we have gotten playful comments usually from older men about me being a handful... Makes you wonder. 

Oh and those rare times when I get to go to the store by myself... so much fun... though I kinda miss him.  That makes you wonder too.



  1. Lol, that lady will have something new for her gossip circle.
    You don't have to load up groceries?! I think you should write a Masters manual. And those of us who are not in charge should never have to load groceries again.
    P.S If you write it, could you include that cleaning snow off the car is a very un-subly thing to do therefore should be against the rules?

    *Sits batting eyelashes waiting for the manual to be published for the benefit of all.

  2. @lil... well another thing I am not allowed to do is wash his clothes. And I literally had a melt down over that... waaaaa!!!! if you loved me you would let me wash your underwear!!! He knows what makes me tick. Not being allowed to help makes me vibrate in my chair.

    And I have offered to scrape the ice off his car and got a sharp angry "NO!"

    I am forced to sit on this pillow. I did not ask for this!!!!

  3. A manual would be a blessing! I am often in trouble for public infractions. Aeon has little patience for what he considers to be "acting out" in public. He olds me to a higher standard when we are out and about.

    A manual would be lovely!

  4. xantu, oh now you're just making me envious.
    *stomps off to do laundry and sweep a foot of snow off the car while bitterly thinking about pillows.