Domestic Service

There has been a development in my D/s relationship with Mistress Sakura Strike, a deepening and strengthening of my position as collared property. A new milestone along my BDSM journey has been reached.

Just over a week ago, I was given a taste of what it is to be a personal slave when I was granted the incredible honour of being permitted to perform domestic duties for my Owner.

In a demonstration of faith and trust in me, Mistress Sakura allowed me into Her home, Her private space. I am very conscious of the enormous privilege that this recognition entails, and I take it extremely seriously.

Personal/domestic servitude is not a ‘paid-for’ service that Mistress Sakura offers in her professional capacity. Mistress is clear that it cannot be bought. I was given this honour because I have earned it through loyalty and devotion, and by proving that I respect Her boundaries. I am immeasurably proud.

(It is, incidentally, as a result of Mistress Sakura’s training, and Her careful building up of my confidence and self-esteem, that I am able to post the above paragraph. At one time, I would have been completely unable to do so because it would have seemed ludicrously boastful.)

A few weeks back, I was given the opportunity to serve my Owner by buying Her a new vacuum cleaner. I did this purely from a desire to please Mistress, and to contribute positively (in however small a way) to Her life. I had no expectation of anything in return except for the knowledge that I had made my Mistress happy. Nonetheless, with her customary kindness and generosity, Mistress said that, as a reward, I would be allowed to come round and use it.

I was staggered. And deeply flattered. And very enthusiastic about the idea.

So, we arranged for me to spend a whole day in domestic service – cooking for my Mistress, cleaning Her flat, and generally seeing to Her comfort.

Before the day itself, Mistress and I discussed what I could cook for Her breakfast and lunch. I was told that I had to wear an apron and ‘nice panties’ (and that these would be inspected). I was given a shopping list of cleaning supplies that I would need to bring. And I was told to bring a dog bowl for me to eat out of – Mistress kindly specified a shallow one so that I could properly get my face into it.

Upon arrival, my panties were inspected (and approved) and I put on my apron (I had bought a new one – pink with frilled edges). Then I was instructed to cook Mistress’s breakfast. Things did not get off to a good start: I made a complete bish of preparing scrambled eggs the way that Mistress likes them, and She had to take over. Not at all an auspicious beginning.

As Mistress ate Her breakfast, I made Her some tea, changed into my ‘indoor’ shoes and began cleaning the kitchen. I was determined to do a good job after my initial failure. I was, after all, in Mistress Sakura’s home, so it was very important to me – and to my Mistress, obviously – that I did everything properly and to my Owner’s exacting standards.

This was my first foray into domestic service for my Mistress, my first experience of being a personal slave. So, it is interesting (to me, at any rate) to note my thought processes at the time. I had expected that I would be concerned to earn Mistress’s praise, that I would be conscious of waiting for that affirming ‘good boy’. I am, after all, a very approval-hungry submissive.

As it happened, however, such thoughts dropped away to near irrelevance almost immediately. I cannot say that they went away entirely – I am still me, and I am still extremely needy.

I enjoy being obedient. One of the things that I enjoy about many of the tasks that Mistress gives me to perform at home, is carrying them out for no other reason than that Mistress has told me to do so. I like the sense of obeying purely for the sake of obedience.

I experienced something of the same mindset while cleaning my Owner’s kitchen. I stopped thinking about myself and my desire for approval. I started working to do as good a job as possible simply because I was doing it for Mistress Sakura. I thought much less about trying to garner Mistress’s praise than about making sure that She received the best service I could give. It is not for me to say whether I succeeded.

It took me all morning to thoroughly clean the kitchen. When I had finished, it was time for me to make lunch. I cooked a dish of cajun-spiced chicken with quinoa and puy lentils. I served it to my Mistress with some salad.

Before starting Her own lunch, Mistress put some of it into my bowl which She then placed on the floor at Her feet. Then Mistress stepped in my food and ordered me to lick it off the sole of her boot. When Mistress was satisfied that I had sufficiently cleaned the food off her boot, she began Her meal and gave me permission to eat from my bowl – without using my hands.

I absolutely loved this. Kneeling at my owner’s feet and eating, like a dog, from a bowl on the floor was a wonderful experience. I felt humiliated, but I also felt kept and tamed – I felt like a pet.

I should say that Mistress did not have to do this for me. This was not a session and I had not paid for Mistress’s time, I had not paid for BDSM activities. I was there purely as a domestic servant. I was there to clean the flat, prepare food, and to see to Mistress’s comfort. I am immensely grateful to my Owner for giving me this extra domination.

The meal that I had cooked did not lend itself at all well to being eaten, without hands, from a pet-food bowl. I made quite a mess of my face, my shirt, and the floor. After I had cleaned up all my mess, Mistress told me that there was a treat for me in the fridge. Cheesecake! My favourite food! And, as a special reward, I was allowed to sit at the table to eat it.

After lunch, I washed up and then began cleaning the bathroom. Once I had (or so I thought) finished that, I vacuum-cleaned the whole flat and then mopped the floors. It was while I was doing this that Mistress summoned me back to the bathroom to point out two areas that I had missed in my cleaning. I apologised profusely and hurriedly corrected my lapse.

Throughout the day, I kept checking with Mistress to see if there was anything that She wanted, and I kept Her supplied with cups of tea.

Once the floors were all done, I washed the windows in the lounge and cleaned up the balcony area. After that, Mistress declared that I had finished and I was ordered to kneel at Her feet. Then, as a reward for my service and hard work, I was permitted to worship Mistress’s boots. I need not, I assume, say how much I loved that.

Mistress and I chatted for a while, and I gave updates on my ongoing tasks. I have not been progressing as far as I should, and I received a well-deserved punishment. I was also given a punishment for not communicating properly about my situation. Thank-you for holding me to such high standards, Mistress.

Then we ordered a takeaway. Once again, I was allowed to eat at the table – and I had some more cheesecake! I was also permitted to nip out and buy myself a beer.

It was a fantastic day. And Mistress has said that I am to be given the honour of serving her in this way every month.

I do not live in London (so I cannot attend my Mistress as often as I would like) and I have very few skills that I can place at Mistress’s disposal. I have been concerned for some time now that I lacked a way to be truly useful to My Owner; that I did not do enough to contribute to Her happiness; that I was not fulfilling my duty to help to make Her life easier. I am, therefore, immensely grateful to Mistress for providing this opportunity to be of service.

I hope that I can live up to the faith that Mistress has placed in me.

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