Tales From the Butler Academy: Etiquette Drills and Compassion

Note: This is part of the “Tales From the Butler Academy” section. Start with “I’m a Slave; Why Am I Going to Butler School?” for more context.

In Module 4—etiquette—I receive my first video assignment. It’s a series of etiquette drills. There are about twenty, each outlining a different tricky situation. My job is to sketch out a more specific scenario if needed (I figured this out after the first round of submissions), and film myself, as the majordomo, responding to it. The instructions emphasize, Acknowledge! Resolve! Redirect! Acknowledge the problem and how the person feels; resolve it if possible (or, state why you can’t, if it’s illegal or such); redirect so as to smooth things over (“May I get you a drink?”). They also heavily imply that you will almost certainly be asked to film several rounds of redos.

So, I write up some notes and set up in my office. My daily uniform is far from scandalous, but not the butler usual. So I basically add a blazer and play with angles. I do a quick check on my surroundings, moving the erotica novels I’ve written, for starters. Books, journals, string lights, and Polaroids remain. I place an oversized stuffed bear in the canopied hammock chair swing across from where I sit in my desk chair. What a look. I fire up Zoom on my laptop, place it on my desk, set it to record the session, and begin. I read the drill number I’m doing, sketch the scenario, and then give my response.

It does, as the instructions also warned, feel a little silly. “12A,” I read seriously. Deep breath. Shake my head. “12A,” I repeat firmly. I look at my notes. No, I can’t do this. I look up at the ceiling, exasperated. “Do I look stupid yet?” 

This is the outtake I send Mistress and a few friends. 

I finally get the first round in. Yes, there’s a lot of feedback, and a lot of redos requested. A couple are deemed simply, “Fine, pass,” and others merely ask me to take the scenario one step further. But some get admittedly hilarious negative feedback. Yikes! reads one. I think your employer’s wife (who happens to also be your boss) might slap you if you responded like that! 

Yes, well, I think, I have some news for you about “my employer’s wife”… (who happens to be me). 

But the overall theme of the feedback is needing more compassion. One issue is that I’m clinically low empathy. And there are some scenarios I think I just struggle to relate to. One sketches a scenario in which my employer is frustrated because the chauffeur has brought the wrong car around to pick them up for an important meeting, while the chauffeur has to go switch cars. I laugh about this with a few friends. Problems I wish I had. I’ve made it clear there isn’t any other staff here. 

But the thing—the thing I have to finally hit on to pass the drills—is that the scenario isn’t really about the car. It isn’t really about the chauffeur. It is about a human being having a stressful day, experiencing the straw that broke the camel’s back, and turning to their trusted majordomo for reassurance and, yes, compassion. We’ve all done it—snapped over a ridiculous little thing because of an underlying serious stressor. This important meeting is in a few minutes, and the chauffeur can’t get their job right. Okay. 

So, I need to acknowledge what happened, that it is a problem (because, minor or not, that was a mistake on the chauffeur’s part), and that the employer has a right to be upset by that, and that I will proactively handle it before it happens again, because that’s my job. And I need to do it with compassion.

It takes me three tries to pass that drill and one other. The others take one or two. But I grasp the importance of the compassion, and the how of delivering it, even if it’s still not a deep seated feeling or instinct. 

And really, the etiquette drills teach skills I need as a slave. While kink protocol can be different, the core skill is the same. Whether it’s knowing what to do when Mistress is upset over something small that is actually about something big, handling mistakes, or dealing with unruly or uninvited guests or vendors, a lot of the drills translate, either directly, or via the underlying skill.

While I turned to butler school more for hard skills and professional standards, the coursework also emphasizes again and again that as I learn each of those skills, they remain wrapped in soft skills, and need to be presented with the famous high end service touch that defines the butler industry. And at the core of that is compassion

So, I’ve tried to carry that with me in the four modules and life since. 

I’m a Slave; Why Am I Going to Butler School?

When my father died and I inherited his estate and life insurance policy, I used the assets very practically. Everything basically went into real estate or high interest savings, following the advice of those I trusted, mostly Mistress, who let me make the estate managing choices at the time; later, we married and fully merged our finances. 

My mother (my parents had divorced) was a good adviser, too, and—perhaps especially watching me flounder a little in the wake of the grief and trauma of discovering my father’s death, the shock of becoming a landlord, and the stress of handling probate court proceedings pro se—had another piece of advice: that (without going too crazy) I should use some of the inheritance to treat myself to something that was previously out of reach.

There was something I’d been thinking about, too, and I did some research, and moved money to a separate savings account, naming it “Pipe Dream”.

Butler school. 

There were a lot of other logistics, though, and the dream wasn’t attainable yet. 

I needed time to attend, not still wrapped in estate managing; there was still major work to do on my health to be fit for that kind of travel (most of them were programs of multiple weeks or months abroad); I couldn’t yet drive. The pandemic struck.

I was also very aware that I wasn’t the typical demographic, as an American woman in my early twenties, and so much else. I would need a vanilla cover story, for starters. 

Still, I dreamt and worked on what I could. I put out fires and cleared space in my life; I improved my health. In the meantime, I wrote prolifically, I published my first book, I planned to start teaching kink education classes, I grew as a slave, taking up new skills and duties. 

In January 2021, days after my twenty-third birthday and first kink education class as the presenter, I learned that the International Institute of Modern Butlers was now offering an online private residence butler school course. It was a four hundred hour, one on one, self paced correspondence course, with all of the same material as a traditional butler school. This eliminated a lot of difficult logistics.

Elated—and with Mistress’ blessing—I signed up the very same day. 

But that’s enough explanation: the question I promised the answer to is why

Because out there in the vanilla world, there are resumes and qualifications and certifications and degrees and standards. I don’t preach these as The Answers; I didn’t even finish high school, and if anything, feel better off for it. But in the kink world, there aren’t really those Standard Items you look for on a resume. While there are big names, there’s not really a I Went To Harvard of kink. You make sense of each individual’s experience via once off classes or intensives they’ve attended, personalized training or mentoring they’ve received, skills and experience they can prove, awards and plaudits they’ve been given, community service they’ve done and involvement they’ve had, so on. And there are a lot of pros to that.

But it left me at a bit of a loss on how to feel like I’d thoroughly learned the basics of service. More than that, I noticed that a lot of “vanilla” standards and education seemed to be missing in the kink scene. It seemed like the second you were doing something in a kink environment, it was somehow different. It seemed that if you did, say, the cooking, as an act of submission to someone else, suddenly it was service, and almost not cooking. There were classes on service: how to negotiate it, service philosophy and archetypes, what is service, incorporating protocols, a few specialty items like tea service or bootblacking… but to learn even relatively basic kitchen skills, like safety standards—and certainly more advanced skills—I had to turn back to “vanilla” resources. And some people didn’t seem to understand that it was still kink/service relevant education, or why they might themselves pursue those “vanilla” cooking skills beyond the very basic, if their interest was in service. 

So I made it a bit of a mission to blend the worlds. As I blended those culinary, housekeeping, secretarial, so on, skills into my own service, I started teaching classes, presenting those skills and standards I’d had to use “vanilla” resources to learn as service skills, framed them in a kink friendly environment, included how to add the service touch, tried not to neglect the soft skills and psychology involved. I integrated that into my kink related educational and fiction writing. 

I wanted to give Mistress the best (that I was capable of), not average hard skills prettily dressed up as service, and I wanted to help others be able to offer the same. And if I wanted to offer something unique, in my service and in my writing and teaching, I had to go outside the kink scene’s preexisting norms. 

The answer remained right in front of me: a vanilla role prided for general high end service. 

The traditional butler. 

So, butler school it was.

More than anything else, I want to prove that the worlds aren’t so different after all. I feel like by taking the course, I can prove that professional, vanilla private service standards can be mirrored by “just” a kinky slave, and I’m probably far from the seemingly most qualified person in that category to do it, just someone with some determination, a dream, and a bit of luck.

Really, it is a role at its core very similar to mine in a lot of ways. Other than terminology changes (Mistress becomes my employer) and minor details (like disguising my somewhat untraditional daily uniform), my only lies in my vanilla cover story are of omission. In a lot of ways, I think my life is actually pretty accurately portrayed in my assignments. I tell real day to day anecdotes, base evaluations on my real, daily actions, service tasks, and routines. 

I try to get the most out of the course that I can that might be truly applicable—and there’s plenty that is. 

I’m currently on Module 8 of 22 about a year into the course, and plan to really pick up the pace. But I do still have a lot going on, health to consider, and the course material is a refreshing challenge, but a challenge nonetheless. 

Selecting Service Tasks in a World of Automation and Outsourcing

This whole post is something I usually throw in while expanding on one bullet point in my Anticipatory Service class, but it deserves a little more, so here goes. 

I talk in that class about generating service ideas/ways to serve, and cite one source of ideas being things that the person you’re serving typically automates or outsources (whether it be home automation or technology, hiring a contractor, going to a place to have the service done, getting delivery, etc.) 

Now, this can be a great source of inspiration, as it’s something they clearly do want done and are willing to hand off. And it can be beneficial to do things yourself to really connect with your service; washing a dish by hand will typically feel more like service than loading a dishwasher, as will giving someone a massage instead of driving them to a spa appointment, baking a loaf of bread instead of buying it, or walking the aisles of a store instead of clicking buttons. 

But there are several factors to consider when deciding if you should take it on as a service task or leave it to automation/outsourcing. 

There’s typically money to be saved in “doing it yourself” (having the s-type do it) versus involving a professional. But sometimes not, if this involves renting or purchasing expensive equipment usually covered by a smaller contractor fee. Even if the money is not an issue—what about the space in your home those supplies take up? Could you maybe split the space/money involved for such supplies with a family member, friend, or neighbor? 

Or, say, if there’s a major pandemic. This may make it safer to hit buttons from home and get grocery delivery than to walk the aisles of a store yourself. But it may also make it safer to perform a service yourself at home (say, giving a haircut) than to go out and have it done.

Next, can you perform the service (or learn to) to the same standard as the professional or technology involved/can you get close enough the trade off (say, money) is worth it? Or could the alternative do this so much better/faster/more easily that it isn’t worth it to do it yourself? There may also be other factors here, like if it’s more eco friendly or healthy to use one technology or another/lack thereof. Or if there are safety factors involved that a pro could better handle. 

The person you’re serving may also simply have a strong preference on this. If you’re beyond the point of negotiating that, you’re beyond the point of negotiating that.

I think the hardest factor to judge and navigate is the trade off of your time and energy (as the s-type). Just because there’s a potential service task to be done doesn’t mean it’s the best use of your time and mental and/or physical energy. Even if it doesn’t seem like a big deal, it can still be a disruption to your focus on another task, and ten tasks that all only take three minutes actually mean a half hour of extra work: things add up, and that’s time you’re not spending on another task that may be more useful.

In my case, I’m not allowed to be truly answerable to someone who isn’t Mistress, I’m not allowed to have a job, or take on things that could interfere with her authority. Service is my full time, forty plus hours a week job; I’m the housewife, no kids, no roommates, no other partners, always on call. But I still have only twenty-four hours in a day, and only so much energy (and some of those hours do need to go to food and sleep and all). And let’s face it: most service types do have other commitments that need to be taken into account. Even I have a lot going on without traditional employment.

So we balance what it’s most practical for me to focus on.

Examples both directions:

Dishes—we’ve opted for me to do them all by hand. Right after meals, I’m required to wash, dry, and put everything away as part of cleaning the kitchen, unless there’s some special exception. Now, we do have a pretty nice dishwasher, but it still really doesn’t do as good a job consistently, and I’m an admittedly somewhat slow and ineffective Dishwasher Loader (spatial reasoning isn’t my strong suit). It’s been used a couple of times when I was ill/after a large event, but that’s about it. 

High window washing—I do the washing of the more accessible windows, but we have a lot of windows that you’d need a full ladder to clean both inside and out. It’s basically impossible for me to move such a ladder by myself, and I have balance issues: me being on it at any real height above the ground would be dangerous, especially unsupervised. But, if I arrange things with a window washing company and have them do it, they whip right through this chore with celerity I’ll never achieve, and the windows are sparkling. The money is well worth it. 

Ultimately, choosing which service tasks to take on and which to leave to automation/outsourcing is about finding that balance point, which might sway back and forth over time (ex: utilizing the dishwasher when I’m very ill). I lean towards doing everything I can myself to really get that feeling of serving directly, but I’m learning to admit when it’s not practical. 

Lots of things to consider. 

Why I Sleep on the Floor

There’s this type of bedroom image that comes to mind. It belongs on a Pinterest board, titled Cozy or Hygge or something. There are candles and string lights and plants and soft fabrics and mugs and books and that sort of thing. It makes you sigh contentedly like you just took the first sip of a warm drink on a cold day. And to make sure you really buy into the peaceful aesthetic, there’s a pet at the foot of the bed, fast asleep. 

And that’s an important part of this image—here is your faithful companion who’s just happy to be close by, almost blending in to the decor, a peaceful and sleepy background detail, there, but out of the way. Four legged or not.

I suppose I describe why I sleep on the floor as wanting to be that first and foremost. It is less being a part of an ascetic image from my point of view, but being part of quite the opposite from Mistress’. That is the lens I try to look through. 


Currently, bedtime looks like this.

I see to final tasks, and am to be ready to be leashed for the night. I unfold the fluffy blanket that lives on the floor at the foot of the bed, which mostly get called my slave furs. I turn down the bed, lay out the turndown card, and fill the humidifier.

At 9:45, I strip out of my Uniform (uniform code says I sleep nude; she likes easy access) and wait in Inspection Position (standing, legs spread, hands clasped behind head, head/eyes straight, back straight). She comes in and inspects me, tells me I did well on my evening tasks (generally), and releases me from position. I offer her lotion and apply it for her, then get into Leashing Position (kneeling on the floor at foot of bed, knees apart, big toes crossed in back (right over left), leash across both palms, hands resting on thighs, hair/head out of the way, collar o-ring in front, back straight).

She leashes me for the night, and then it’s time for sleep.

So the floor thing is bathed in other protocol. It isn’t just sleeping on the floor. It has to be taken in context. Just sleeping on the floor does not hold much meaning for me in particular—it’s powerful, as sleeping is something you spend a significant portion of your time doing—but it’s ultimately one piece of a bigger picture, one line in a contract well over two thousand words. 

I want it to be a reflection of my life during my waking hours, not an image I take up at night with echos throughout the day. I want to sleep on the floor because it feels like the right place in my life of submission, at the end of a day of serving, not as an activity to force the feeling. 


People are skeptical of this, but: the floor really isn’t that uncomfortable. Granted, still my opinion. 

The bedroom is carpeted, and I have my fluffy blanket I wrap both under me for a bit more cushioning, and over me as a blanket. I ball it up under my head as a pillow, or frequently add an actual pillow, because there is admittedly strain on my neck.

The floor for me is a symbolic place, not an item of physical discomfort. I’m allowed to be comfortable there. It’s not really a masochism thing—asceticism at best. Yes, it’s simple.

But it’s not that the floor is an inferior place because it’s less comfortable, necessarily—that’s a part of it, but not all of it—but because it is lower, it is humbler. Importantly, it means that my place is defined by her place. I don’t have my own place. During the day, during time with her, I don’t have a distinct spot I go to, I don’t have a pillow I kneel on; my place is on the floor at her feet, wherever she is in the world.

And so, the same thing at night. 


Pieces of this have been incorporated over time. I’ve been sleeping on the leash nightly since May 2019 or so. The floor, nightly since May 2021. 

The leash came much earlier, yes. Like my collar, Mistress has made each iteration of it herself, rope work to match. She gifted me this latest version on Valentine’s Day (2021), the biggest difference being a little more length. Yes, I got a longer leash for Valentine’s Day. Ha. 

The leash is kind of an extension of the collar, to me. The collar is the ownership symbol she put on me, kind of meant to be an identifier even when I am away from her. It says mine. But the leash is connection, the bridge. Two ends, not the claspless circle around my neck. The leash, in the moment, says with

During the day, the leash is invisible. It’s there, in protocol and everything else, logistically in needing to notify her if I’m leaving the house—even for the mailbox—and especially in needing permission to go most places. But I’m not going to be physically leashed all day, because we are not together all day. 

But at night, I get the physical leash. It attaches to the bed—to her place. At night, there is, physically, with, even from the floor, which reminds me, with, loved, but not equal


I think I have just about shaken the falling sensation. 

When you sleep in an elevated bed, a possibility is that you will fall. I am a restless sleeper, and I will curl up on the very far edge of the bed, because it’s where my body guides me. I have, often, woken by falling, or almost falling, out of bed. 

Once I started sleeping on the floor, my mind still had this boundary, this amount of rolling over I could do before it thought I had gone too far, and I would bolt upright with the sensation of falling, scrambling to catch myself.

But I wasn’t falling. I had just strayed a little on the floor. 

Still, the phantom falling, like a more physical, middle of the night, fast asleep version of the type some get when trying to fall asleep, took several months to go away. Now, it’s rare, and I stray pretty far from the foot of the bed sometimes, moving back when I wake and notice. There’s plenty of floor in the opposite direction, and it’s not like anyone else is using it in the middle of the night (except for the cats, who rage their 3 AM wars on top of me either way). My slave fur cocoon mostly moves with me. The way I wrap myself up in it, I’ve never woken up out of it, even if I’m approaching the opposite wall. 

Occasionally, I stray the other direction, and manage to roll myself partially under the bed. I can’t really fit under there on my side, my default falling asleep position, but at some point I may end up partially under it on my back. And, y’know, slam my head into the tubular steel when I move (and yes, that’ll hurt for a couple of days, masochism crowd; no, I don’t recommend it). I’ve gained some awareness of if I have rolled myself under there, though, to warn me, but it’s not perfect. 

However. I have shaken the falling sensation, because my mind realizes there is nowhere lower to fall, and has relaxed about it. How’s that for symbolism? 

Day in the Slave Life: Anecdote Collection

There’s a group of us sitting around the living room: Mistress, me, my mom, my best friend. Since it includes my mom, I’m allowed on the furniture. Mistress is next to me and makes some gesture or movement I forget now, and I not only flinch, but approach the full on, Hallmark movie recoilWhoops.

My best friend raises a knowing eyebrow at me, almost laughing. Mistress feigns noticing nothing. But we all covertly eye my mother, coming to the conclusion at about the same moment that she didn’t notice, bending to reach for her drink at exactly the right time.


I actually kind of admire that we’ve gotten to the point of that reaction, the telling reality of it, but that doesn’t mean my mother—who already accepts a lot—needs to be involved.

But where does it come from?

9:30 AM. I hit the pager transmitter button as always to signal that brunch is ready. I wait behind my usual chair in the assigned position. Mistress comes downstairs and greets me with the usual successful inspection of the table, my uniform, the position, then slaps me, which sends me defensively reeling out of it.

“What, are you crazy? Get back in position.” 

I do, still jumpy, but also kind of hoping she’ll do it again. I’ll be ready and be good this time. But she lets me sit, and we eat brunch. At the end, leaving to finish more of the morning task inspection, she tells me to go put in an anal plug and leave it until she tells me otherwise, before or after cleaning the kitchen.

“Yes, Mistress.”

My body is still a bit wired from yesterday, from, as she said, being used, sex without me being allowed to come (as usual, which I prefer, the focus it brings); I didn’t feel well, she told me it didn’t matter (true); still, I was kneeling on the bed, head in my lap, crying, by the end of it, pains exacerbated, but as a slave, glad it all happened anyway and managing a twinge of unresolved arousal.


Once, I’m in my standard kneeling position as we chat, legs going numb. “May I stretch?” I ask, by which I mean sit on the floor in a more comfortable position.


It’s not really that bad yet, but an order’s an order. “Please, Mistress?”

It’ll do. “You may.”

(Later, adding the please and Mistress becomes a required part of asking any permission.)

Today, we do our weekly maintenance discipline session. Despite managing to stay still enough under the attentions of the discipline wand, which I retrieved from the mantel and presented in position, and counting properly, I still feel soaked with sweat. I ask for permission to take a “rinse off” shower (meaning I’m allowed to skip shaving and therefore the inspection after), and she grants it.

I haven’t been in the shower long, but am almost done, when she returns, throws open the shower door, shuts the warm water off. I shiver.


I do. The shower floor is small and unforgiving.

She pisses on me—at least it’s warm again—orders, “Clean me up.” I do, using my mouth as efficiently as I can. “Now you can shower,” she says, and leaves me there.

I turn the water back on—it takes a second to find the right temperature—and do it all again.


This isn’t so uncommon.

Another day, we’re talking in her office, me in my usual kneeling position again. She says, “Come with me.”

I do, to the bedroom.

“Remove all of your clothing.”

I do.

“Kneel. In the shower.”

I do. I had just showered before our conversation.

She pisses on me this time, too, trying to get mostly my face, my hair, for added effect, using the latter to dry off, and turns the water on me on full blast cold before leaving, as I scramble against the opposite wall of the shower.

She doesn’t wash my mouth out with soap while I wait for the water to heat up again this time, though, I think, with mixed relief and wistfulness.

Well, time to shower again.

There are only two times I remember forgetting about being on my leash. One, at night. Two:

With friends, at home, we’re eating dinner. Just to mix things up, for fun, I’m on my leash, now that I’m done cooking, allowed to sit at the table.

We talk a long time, lingering, and as the meal concludes, we stand to head to socializing in the living room, or, for me, cleanup.

Except that I’ve forgotten about the leash. So I’m not especially prompt or mindful about standing and pushing in my chair and moving the opposite direction of the intuitive—looping around the head of the table, where Mistress was sitting.

But it almost doesn’t matter: she’s also forgotten, the leash clipped to a belt loop, heading a way that I can’t follow fast enough and that tangles around her own chair.

I have one second after I remember to think, Oh, shit, before I choke when the leash hits its end, stumbling in the right direction.

“Oh, shit,” she says out loud.

We all laugh.

Our friends are used to us.

My best friend is staying with us at the time, and I’m standing in the doorway to their room, talking about, of all things, the fandom of a children’s book series, while Mistress passes behind me, getting something from the garage—we’ve all recently moved—for something she’s cooking.

She starts to pass by me again, then thinks better of it, and says, “I wonder… come over here,” brandishing the small cast iron skillet.

I step out from the slightly narrow hallway into the wider opening of our front room, still in range and continuing the first conversation.


That thing is staggering, as it collides with my ass. “My point is—” crack “—the second series really—” crack “—it does age with the audience—” crack “—but kind of depressingly.” Crack.

My best friend is nearly crying, they’re laughing so hard at me trying to make my fandom point between cast iron strikes. Mistress declares that the skillet is too heavy and pointless to swing this long.

Well, I made at least one point.

Besides pure fun, there are all kinds of cathartic uses for pain, and one I particularly like is actually more cathartic for her: the punching bag scenario.

Frustrated with coworkers or friends or telemarketers, she bends me over the nearest counter and lays into me with the nearest wooden spoon, or over the bed with always handy punches and slaps and kicks.

I just like the release of feeling in it, without having to be the source of frustration. The whipping girl thing, y’know. Maybe it’s what some people get out of brat taming. But I behave.

Mistress: What percentage of being a slave is just like, keeping your mouth shut?

Me: About 115.

I’ve always wanted a shock collar, and when a reader requests an electricity play scene for one of my fiction series, I make it an excuse to get one. I avoid writing kinks I don’t know about, and I could’ve written about the neon wand or a tens unit or anything I’ve already done, but… let me be clear: I just wanted a shock collar.

It arrives among a few other items, and Mistress helps me test it out immediately. She fastens it around my thigh—it’s bulky, and I already have my normal collar; it seems a little safer, and its two metal prods leave very visible pink marks.

Its shock settings go from 1 to 99. 1, okay, I felt that. Around 5 gives me the feeling of a strong static shock from a doorknob.



She keeps pushing the number higher, increments of five or so. Before the forties, my leg spasms each time, a feeling weird more than just painful. Then I have to sit down, or lose my balance. Still, higher.

“You’re going to ninety-nine, aren’t you?” she asks, in that you are a masochistic idiot tone.

“Of course.”

Eighty-five or so knocks the wind out of me briefly. Just a few notches higher, though. It’s nice, really.

Ninety-nine. Jesus. A little glad it doesn’t go any higher. A little wishing it did. But I do ninety-nine a few times. It’s a massive but pleasant jolt. Like a roller coaster.

Mistress rolls her eyes.

I really like blood. I might even say I need it, and, like shock collars, you can get scalpels delivered and keep them in stock. The future truly is now.

Since I’ve asked, Mistress tells me to go collect the needed items and meet her in her office. I was already undressed, leashed for the night or about to be, at the beginning of this conversation, and goosebumps rise on my skin in anticipation and from exposure.

I kneel next to her in her office, prepped. She selects a spot and tells me to cut a K there, her first initial. I cut the first line, a strange thrill, but am unsure if it was deep enough and actually cut, the bleeding delayed. She’s also unsure, and I’ve redone it when the first one begins to dot with blood. Now, they both do. Oh, well. I cut the next two lines of the letter carefully and without redos. She adds a few miscellaneous lines of her own, a kind of decorative monogrammed pattern.

I clean up, adding enough gauze to not bleed on my slave furs and enjoying the lingering stinging sensations.

Me, from slave furs, to cat looking down at me from the bed: You’re not better than me just because you sleep in the bed.

Mistress, nearby: Am I not better than you because I sleep in the bed?

Me: I mean, not because you sleep in the bed.

You might notice I’m a little hard to challenge in masochism.

The physical stuff is fun, but I’m in the masochism business for the emotion more than anything else. The ever worn down feeling of work well done. The asceticism of the slave life. The self discipline and focus required in 24/7 high protocol service. The creative inspiration it provides; the tortured artist thing.

The talk, with an element of truth, is crucial, too—the themes of Stockholm syndrome and victim blaming and possessiveness.

“You like being owned, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good girl. That’s exactly what you tell people when they ask.”

And the occasional catharsis. In the moment: fear, humiliation, despair.

Today, she yanks me onto the bed, pinning me. There’s already been the usual hair pulling, collar grabbing, bites, scratches, in this conversation. But on the bed, she clamps her hand over my mouth and nose, not around my throat, her usual choking method.

It’s strange, but it’s the slight change in method that makes me panic. I know what happens with her hand wrapped around my throat. I don’t worry about that. But as my lungs drain the air in the small gap between her skin and mine, the seal kicking in, nothing coming, unable to breathe in, and out of air, like I’m in a vacuum, the edges of my vision start pulsing black, and I panic. Not sure what comes next or when. Not much comes of the panic; I mostly freeze, and she releases me. I gasp for lungfuls of breath. Relief floods me with the oxygen.

That. That was good.

All in a day’s work?

Day in the Slave Life: My General Daily Schedule

8:10 AM

Probably rolling over already, staring up at the outrigger on the bed or the ceiling; shut the alarm before or when it goes off. Up and at ‘em!  Well, up and into proper Unleashing Position. Detangle self from blanket on the floor and hit the leash/unleash request button on the pager transmitter while I get in position.  Mistress comes in and unclips the leash from my collar. 

She unleashes me and bids me good morning, giving me permission to speak. I ask permission to go to the bathroom (in the proper format), and she grants it.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

She leaves, and I get up to do that, put on my daily uniform (having slept nude), and wash up, take meds, etc.

Then I go for a one mile meditative walk around the block (notifying her I’m leaving the house before I go, and taking my phone with me for her to track).

When I get back, I see to morning service tasks.  Open the right blinds, turn on the right lights, open a set of windows if it’s nice. Do a quick tidy of the house, setting everything back in its place. Make the bed (remember the hospital corners), add a linen spray (and in my office, and on the couches), and fold up my blanket. Prepare another pot of coffee to be turned on later. Check on the plants’ and the cats’ needs.

9:20 AM

Make brunch. On the table, set properly, at 9:30. Hit the downstairs pager transmitter button for mealtimes and get into Waiting Position behind my assigned chair.  Mistress comes downstairs and, since she likes me at the table at meals but I can’t sit on the furniture around her without permission, or even ask, she checks my position for things like finger placement (hands clasped behind back, right over left, right thumb over left thumb), says, “You may sit.” We have brunch and talk, and after, I clean up immediately. If I’m making a slow cooking dinner entree, I start it, and usually do a few other chores.

10:29 AM

Morning inspection in one minute. I get into position in the bedroom—standing, legs apart, hands clasped behind my head. Mistress checks over my morning service tasks, and me, and my uniform, the position, my timeliness, everything, and—usually—lets me know I did well. I rub in sunscreen for her, and the morning is done.


See to any tasks scheduled on a weekly or less frequent basis.

Weekly tasks look like this:

Sunday: Double check on restocking items throughout household, go grocery shopping.

Monday: 4 PM sex, take a shower (I frequently group those together), clean cat box (I usually do this with morning chores.)

Tuesday: Deeper cleaning in the kitchen (I usually group this with brunch cleanup); at 4 PM, give Mistress a pedicure.

Wednesday: Clean cat box, deeper cleaning in bathrooms, we play ping pong (this happens after dinner). I go donate plasma.

Thursday: I take out all of the trash, put the trash bins down to the curb (usually as part of morning chores), and do extra laundry.

Friday: Maintenance discipline (after brunch, grouped with morning inspection), bring trash bins up from curb, do weekly review, clean cat box, take shower.

Saturday: My mom comes over for dinner. Floor cleaning/dusting/surface cleaning/furniture cleaning.

There are also monthly, quarterly tasks, so on, and little things that come up.

Calendar events might include hosting for Las Vegas TNG or teaching for SlaveClass (and there are tasks related to this as well).

Probably writing otherwise. Might do butler school coursework.

Basically, free time, maybe errands or company if permitted, probably grab lunch or a snack at some point. 

4:45 PM

Somewhere as early as 4:45 and as late as 5:45 (if finishing off something slow cooking), cook dinner.  There might have been afternoon baking for it, too.  

Dinner on the table at 6, table set properly, hit the transmitter button, get into Waiting Position in place. Same deal as brunch. She checks the position and grants me permission to sit. We eat and talk a bunch; I clean up, make sure there’s coffee prepped for morning, and shut down the downstairs when I’m done/when I go upstairs for the night.

9:35 PM 

Shut down/turn down the upstairs. Turn down the bed, set out the nightly turndown card. Fill the humidifier. Unfold my blanket on the floor. Undress.

Evening inspection at 9:45.

I stand in position in the bedroom, Mistress checks over my evening service tasks, and me, the position, my timeliness, all of it again, and, usually, lets me know I did well.

Then, I get her lotion for the night and rub it in for her. After that, I get into Leashing Position and get leashed for the night.

We probably talk or cuddle. She’ll leave or get into bed; I make sure to message my mom goodnight. 

I set my alarms, write my slave journal entry, charge my electronics, take my meds, and shut my laptop.

Then, time for sleep.

Decision Making and Internal Enslavement: A Metaphor

We talked about the weight—or the perceived lack thereof—of decision making as a slave the other day. 

Mistress pointed out that for many s-types, outsourcing the decision, so to speak, to their left side of the slash counterpart, relieves decision fatigue, anxiety about the consequences of that choice, and the feeling of responsibility.

But for me, it doesn’t, really. Even if she makes the decision and I have no right to argue—and I don’t—I still feel responsible. I still feel the need to think my way through the decision as if I was going to make it myself—even if it has to be after the fact. I might not come up with anything more than, “Well, Mistress said so,” or trust in her general judgment, but the thought process is still there, seeing if that is the only reason. I still feel responsible for the outcome, even if my only part in it was the decision, a long time ago, to submit. I still feel like—as a service—I should think through it to make sure she’s not missing anything she might want to know. I still have that standing at the crossroads feeling. 

She pointed out that this appeared to contradict my usual perspective on internal enslavement. Usually, I said that, at this point and for a long time now, I could not, psychologically, purposefully choose something that violated her will. But no, this still lined up for me, and I explained it like this: 

So I’m standing at a fork in the road. One clear, sunny path leads to the obedient action. The other path—to disobedience—is shrouded in fog. The clear path is the obvious best choice, the one I normally happily continue down. But, even just mentally pondering the foggy path, it’s like wandering into that thick fog and constantly getting turned around. I always end up back where I started like ultimately bouncing off a force field. If I could see the path clearly, I’d notice that it dead ends in a few feet. But sometimes I don’t see or remember that it’s a dead end. But I start to dissociate, and thoughts swirl in that fog, too much to continue down that path. Because of that guarantee, that the fog is too thick, there isn’t really a path there at all, no matter the apparent intersection. And so I go wander down the clear path again. 

This made sense to her. The decision sometimes seemed like it could be mine, regardless of the truth, if I could just get through that fog. But the fog makes sure there’s nothing for me on the other side of it. And I normally don’t even notice the foggy path as an option; certainly going down it doesn’t frequently occur to me. 

But, the sheer fogginess of that path, the guarantee of a dead end, scares some people as a description. I see why. Free will is something a lot of people hold dear enough to never be willing to give up. I get it. But I don’t feel scared by it much. I hold that will dearly, too, and I didn’t hand it over lightly. But I know whom I gave it to and trust her like I would trust myself.

That’s all I need to know when I’m noticing the fog at the fork in the road. 

Service Skill: Cooking (Recipes)


Pot Roast

Season boneless chuck roast, four to five pounds (salt/pepper/paprika), sear on all sides (optional).  Add water to cover, pound of baby carrots, three to four cups tomato sauce, and simmer in pot on stove or crock pot on high with liner for six to eight hours, stirring now and then.  Try to break apart large pieces of meat. Serve on top of boiled egg noodles if desired. 

Baked Ziti

Preheat oven 350*F.  Cook and drain one box/a pound of penne pasta (or comparable pasta of choice).  Decase, brown, and crumble one pack Italian sausage, add jar (three to four cups) of tomato sauce to heat.  Combine sauce, pasta, and sausage in 9×13 glass pan, and sprinkle on shredded mozzarella until nearly covered.  Bake fifteen minutes or so.  Serves up to five or so.  Skip sausage for vegetarian version.

Garlic Chicken

Preheat oven 400*F.  Melt quarter cup butter with about twelve cloves crushed, peeled garlic.  Dip boneless skinless chicken breasts (halved) or thighs into butter/garlic sauce, then coat in even mixture of bread crumbs and grated parmesan (with tablespoon or so garlic powder).  Place coated chicken in greased 9×13 glass baking pan.  Bake for about thirty-five minutes or until 165*F in center of chicken.  Serves up to four with two or three pieces of chicken a piece.    

Lemon Chicken

Preheat oven 400*F.  Stir together a half cup flour, two tablespoons lemon pepper seasoning, zest of one lemon, some salt and pepper.  Toss boneless skinless chicken breasts (halved) or thighs in mixture.  Heat some olive oil in an oven proof skillet. Add chicken and brown on both sides.  Add three tablespoons butter, three quarters cup chicken broth, and one sliced lemon.  Bake about twenty minutes or until 165*F in center of chicken. Serves up to about four with two or three pieces of chicken a piece.    

Pork Chops

Season boneless pork chops with salt and pepper, then coat in flour.  Heat oil in skillet, and fry pork chops until brown on both sides, and 145*F or above in their center.  Can easily cook for three to four at once.  Goes well with applesauce. 

Chicken Thighs (or Drumsticks)

Preheat oven to 400*F.  Place bone in skin on chicken thighs (or drumsticks) in glass baking dish, making sure skin covers meat.  Season with salt, pepper, rosemary, and thyme.  Cook for an hour-ish, until 165*F in center of chicken.  Serves about one person per two or three pieces of chicken.

Pan Steaks

Allow steaks to rest at room temperature for thirty to sixty minutes.  Pat dry, season generously with salt and pepper.  Heat oil in skillet on medium-high.  Sear steaks a few minutes on both sides, flip and cook to desired doneness.  Optional: shortly before done, add a few tablespoons of butter, and spoon butter over steaks. 

Stir Fry Style Chicken (or Steak)

Cut boneless skinless chicken breasts or thighs (or steak) into about one inch cubes.  Heat a drizzle of olive oil in wok or skillet on medium high.  Add chicken (or steak), season with salt and pepper as desired, cook to 165*F in center of chicken pieces (or to desired safe temp for steak).  Add in some butter near the end if desired. 

Basic Chicken Breast

Pat dry, then flatten, boneless skinless chicken breasts and season with salt and pepper as desired; allow to rest at room temperature about thirty minutes.  Heat oil in skillet on medium high heat.  Cook on both sides to 165*F internal temperature.

Pork Roast

Season boneless pork tenderloin, salt/pepper, sear on all sides (optional).  Add apple juice to cover and one pound of baby carrots.  Simmer in pot on stove or crock pot on high with liner for six to eight hours, stirring now and then, breaking apart large pieces of meat.  

Garlic Parmesan Pasta

Cook egg noodles or desired pasta; meanwhile, peel and mince about one head garlic.  Drain pasta.  In empty pot, heat a generous drizzle of olive oil and two or three tablespoons of butter.  Add garlic, cook until beginning to brown, reduce heat, add pasta back in.  Add grated parmesan cheese to taste and stir thoroughly.  Serve with extra parmesan on top/on the side. 

Baked BBQ Pork

Preheat oven to 400*F. Blot boneless half pork tenderloin dry with paper towels. Rub with brown sugar, paprika, salt, and pepper. Sear on all sides in oven proof skillet. Place in oven and bake about one hour/until pork is 145*F in center. Brush with BBQ sauce about ten minutes before done. Slice and serve with extra sauce.

Crock Pot Chicken

Season boneless, skinless chicken breast to taste (salt/pepper/other). Add chicken broth or water to cover and one pound baby carrots and other desired veggies. Simmer in crock pot on high with liner for six to eight hours, checking chicken is still liquid covered now and then.

Lemon Spaghetti

Cook spaghetti/similar pasta of choice according to directions on box. Meanwhile, combine a drizzle of olive oil, zest of one lemon, and juice of two lemons in a separate skillet. When you’re about to drain the pasta, turn on heat under the skillet to medium. Drain pasta; keep three quarters cup of pasta water. Add pasta and the three quarters cup pasta water to skillet. Toss with six tablespoons of butter, cut into small pieces, and half cup grated parmesan until sauce is smooth. Season with salt and pepper. Serve with extra parmesan.

Grated Tomato Sauce and Pasta

Cook penne/similar pasta of choice according to directions on box. Meanwhile, slice a thin round off the bottom of three tomatoes. Over a cutting board, starting at cut end, grate the tomatoes over the largest holes of a grater; discard skin/stem remaining. Transfer grated tomato to bowl. Season with salt and pepper. Peel and mince eight cloves garlic. Heat drizzle of olive oil in a skillet over medium. Cook garlic until just starting to brown. Reduce heat to medium low, add tomatoes, and simmer, stirring, for above five minutes to thicken. Remove from heat, add two tablespoons butter, and stir until melted. Combine with cooked pasta and serve.


Mashed Potatoes

Rinse and peel (if desired) potatoes (Russet, Idaho, that sort; about one or two potatoes per person; add a sweet potato if desired, cut to same size).  Cut into sixths or so.  Place in large pot on stove, well covered with salted water.  Simmer for about half hour. Drain water.  Add about 1/4 cup (half stick) of butter, cut into tablespoons or so, more if desired, small splash of milk, and salt.  You can also add minced garlic if desired.  Blend well with hand mixer or potato masher.  Add milk if needed to desired texture. 

Roasted Potatoes

Preheat oven to 500*F.  Rinse about two potatoes per person (Russet, Idaho, golden, red, whatever desired), peel if desired, chop into about one inch pieces. Melt two tablespoons of butter with about two tablespoons of cooking oil on stove.  Toss potatoes in mixture, add salt/pepper. Spread potatoes on baking sheet and put in oven for fifteen minutes.  Flip/rearrange potatoes and put back in for fifteen minutes.  Repeat/back in oven for fifteen more minutes or until desired doneness.

Roasted Asparagus

Preheat oven to 375*F. Rinse asparagus and trim (all white, to about second knuckle). Spread on lined baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil and melted butter if desired, then brush it over/toss. Season with salt and pepper. Put in oven for about 25 minutes, flip/rearrange about halfway through. Finish quickly in hot skillet.

Drop Biscuits

Preheat oven 400*F. Combine one and three-quarter cups flour, one tablespoon baking powder, one teaspoon sugar, and one teaspoon salt. Cut in half cup of cold butter. Mix in three quarter cup milk. Create about nine scoops of dough on lined baking sheet. Brush with milk, bake until golden, about twenty minutes.

Cut Out Biscuits

Preheat oven 450*F.  Combine nine cups flour, three tablespoons baking powder, three tablespoons sugar, three teaspoons salt, and two and a quarter teaspoons cream of tartar.  Cut in two and a quarter cups of butter.  Make well in center of bowl, add three cups of milk.  Stir.  Turn dough out onto floured surface, knead, roll to about desired thickness with floured rolling pin (about three quarters of an inch), cut with floured biscuit cutter to rounds (about two and a half inches).  Brush with milk, bake on lined baking sheet until light golden brown, about fifteen minutes.  Freeze leftover rounds until just solid on parchment paper, then store in resealable bag to pop in oven later.   Makes about three dozen. 

Mac and Cheese

Boil salted water.  Add elbow macaroni/pasta of choice.  Cook until done, maybe twelve minutes, drain, set aside.  Melt three tablespoons of butter with a splash of milk.  Stir in eight to twelve slices of American cheese if serving one to four, and small handful shredded cheddar if desired.  Add milk or cheese to desired texture, stir until smooth.  Add pasta back in, stir.


Peel, core, and chop about five pounds of apples.  Add to lined crock pot with large pinch of salt, the juice of one lemon, and one and a half cups water.  Cook in crock pot on high for about three and a half hours, stirring occasionally, or until it reaches desired consistency/taste. Store in fridge. 

Rustic Bread

Mix three cups warm water (around 110*F), two and a quarter teaspoons active dry yeast, and one tablespoon sugar in large mixing bowl.  Let sit for about five minutes/until bubbly.  Add six cups flour and three teaspoons salt.  Mix until it forms dough.  Cover loosely with plastic wrap. Let rise about three hours.  Preheat oven to 450*F and put an upside down cookie sheet on the top rack.  Fill baking dish with water and place on bottom rack.  Sprinkle flour on counter, turn out dough, fold on itself, and divide in half.  Form two round loaves.  Cut an X on top of each ball.  Place on lightly floured pan, then put pan on top of the cookie sheet in the oven.  Bake about forty minutes.  Internal temp should be above 190*F.  Wait at least a half hour before slicing. 


Basic Drop Cookies

Preheat oven to 350*F.  Combine one and one quarter cups flour, half a teaspoon baking soda, half a teaspoon baking powder, three quarter teaspoon salt, half cup butter, one third cup sugar, half cup brown sugar, two teaspoons vanilla, and one egg.  Mix in desired amount chocolate chips/mix ins.  Place large balls of dough on lined baking sheets and bake until golden brown, about fifteen minutes.  Makes about a dozen cookies.  Substitute gluten free flour for gluten free cookies. Double recipe and spread dough evenly in 9×9 greased cake pan and bake until toothpick test passed (about 20 minutes) for blondies.  Freeze extra balls of dough on parchment paper until solid, then store in zipper bag to pop in oven later.  

Thumbprint Cookies

Preheat oven to 375*F.  Combine one third cup sugar, half cup brown sugar, one teaspoon baking soda, half teaspoon salt, one and two thirds cup flour, half cup softened butter, three quarters cup creamy peanut butter, one egg, and one teaspoon vanilla.  Roll dough into balls, place spaced out on lined cookie sheet.  Bake until golden brown, about ten minutes.  Press reservoir into center of each cookie.  Add Nutella to reservoir.  Makes about two dozen. 


Preheat oven to 325*F.  Mix one cup powdered sugar, two and two thirds cup of flour, and one cup (two sticks) softened butter.  Lightly grease 9×13 baking pan, cover bottom of pan evenly in dough.  Bake until very lightly brown, toothpick test passed, about twenty minutes.  Cut into rectangles, prick each rectangle twice with fork (4×2 rows of dots).  

Apple Bread

Preheat oven to 350*F.  Grease and flour a 9×5 inch loaf pan.  Mix one third cup brown sugar, one teaspoon cinnamon, two third cup sugar, one and a half cups flour, one and three quarters teaspoons baking powder, half cup butter, two eggs, one and a half teaspoons vanilla, one tablespoon Nutella, half cup milk, and two apples, peeled and chopped into small/desired size pieces.  Pour into loaf pan.  Bake until toothpick test passed, browned, about forty minutes.

Ice Cream Bread

Preheat oven to 350*F.  Soften four cups of desired regular ice cream.  Grease a 9×5 inch loaf pan.  Stir 3 cups of self rising flour with ice cream.  Pour mixture into loaf pan and smooth out.  Bake about 50 minutes or until done, toothpick test passed.  (Incorporate toppings, mix ins, or serve with ice cream as desired.) 

Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies

Preheat oven to 375*F.  Combine one cup Crisco, half cup sugar, one cup brown sugar, two eggs, one cup flour, one teaspoon baking soda, one teaspoon salt, one teaspoon vanilla, two cups oatmeal, and chocolate chips to taste.  Place balls of dough on lined baking sheets and bake until golden brown, about ten minutes.  Makes about two dozen.

Slutty Brownies

Preheat oven to 350*.  Prepare cookie dough recipe or mix of choice.  Prepare brownie batter recipe or mix of choice.  Grease 9×13 inch cake pan and line bottom with cookie dough.  Place whole Double Stuf Oreos over cookie dough in one layer.  Pour brownie batter evenly over top.  Bake for about forty minutes or until toothpick test passed.  Serve with vanilla ice cream.


Whisk together one cup milk, warmed to about 110*F, one tablespoon active dry yeast, and one third cup granulated sugar.  Allow to sit in warm spot for about five minutes/until frothy.  Mix in two eggs, six tablespoons mostly melted butter, one tablespoon vanilla, half teaspoon salt, and four cups flour.  Knead two minutes on counter. Grease bowl, place dough in bowl, loosely cover, allow to rise in warm spot for about 3 hours.  When dough is ready, punch down once or twice.  Remove from bowl and turn out onto lightly floured surface.  Roll dough out until about half inch thick. Cut into twelve donuts (two biscuit cutters or donut cutter). Line baking sheets, put donuts on baking sheet. Loosely cover as you heat oil/allow to rise. Heat about two inches of oil to 375*F in large, heavy duty pot over medium high heat. Add donuts in batches and cook until golden on each side. Remove donuts to tray. Add desired glaze/topping. 

Chocolate Crinkles

Preheat oven to 350*F. Combine one half cup unsweetened cocoa powder, one cup sugar, one quarter cup vegetable oil, two eggs, one teaspoon vanilla, one cup flour, one teaspoon baking powder, and half teaspoon salt.  Create balls of dough and roll in powdered sugar.  Bake for about twelve minutes.  Substitute gluten free flour for gluten free cookies.

Chocolate Chip Peanut Butter Oatmeal Cookies

Preheat oven to 350*F. Combine one and three-quarter cups rolled oats, two-third cup brown sugar, one-third cup sugar, half teaspoon salt, quarter teaspoon baking soda, one cup peanut butter, four tablespoons of butter, two eggs, and desired amount/combo chocolate chips, peanut butter chips, M&M’S, etc. Create balls of dough on lined baking sheet. Bake for about twenty minutes. Gluten-free; makes about two dozen cookies.

Brownie Cookies

Preheat oven to 350*. Combine one and one third cups flour, half teaspoon baking powder, half teaspoon salt, half cup unsweetened cocoa powder, one cup sugar, half cup melted butter, three tablespoons vegetable oil, one egg, two teaspoons vanilla, and desired amount of chocolate (and/or peanut butter) chips. Create balls of dough on lined baking sheet. Bake for about twelve minutes. Makes about sixteen cookies.


(See bread and biscuit recipes above as well.)


Combine one and one quarter cup flour, one tablespoon sugar, one and a half teaspoons baking powder, one quarter teaspoon salt, one egg, one and one quarter cup milk, two tablespoons butter (melted). Heat butter in pan on medium high heat. Add batter (desired size/amount of pancakes). Add any desired mix ins (blueberries, chocolate chips, etc.) Cook until light brown on bottom, just barely bubbling on top. Flip. Cook another minute or two until light brown on bottom. Serve with syrup, butter, or whatever is desired. Makes approximately pancakes for three. (For pancake bites: preheat oven 375*F. Pour pancake batter into greased or lined mini muffin pan. Bake about ten minutes.)

Energy Balls

Combine one and a half cup oats, half cup peanut butter (or desired nut butter), two tablespoons hemp or flax or chia seeds (more oats will also do), one third cup honey or maple syrup, half cup chocolate chips (or other mix ins). Combine, shape into balls, refrigerate in sealed container.

Our Contract

This contract supersedes all other versions of this contract as of the date it is published. It will stand until a new Ownership Contract has been published in its place.

This contract is an agreement to a 24/7 live in Mistress/slave dynamic. Kate and Hannah are married; Hannah is Kate’s owned and collared slave.

This contract is an exclusive agreement. Both agree to be monogamous. This means no power exchange, romance, kinky play, cohabitating, or sexual activity with other people, unless discussed.


This schedule is only to be broken with good reason.


  • Every Sunday, Hannah will handle shopping.
  • Every Monday, sex at 4PM.
  • Every Tuesday, Hannah will see to additional/deep cleaning tasks in the kitchen as needed. Hannah will give Kate a pedicure at 4PM.
  • Every Wednesday, Kate and Hannah will play ping pong after dinner. Hannah will see to additional/deep cleaning tasks in the bathrooms as needed.
  • Every Thursday, Hannah will put the outdoor trash cans down by the curb. Sex at 4PM.
  • Every Friday, Hannah will bring the trash cans up the driveway once they’ve been emptied. After brunch, Maintenance will occur. Maintenance discipline sessions are defined as private and non sexual. Hannah will tell Kate she is ready, fetch the Discipline Wand, and wait in the bedroom with it in Presenting Object position, nude. Kate will give Hannah a spanking with the Discipline Wand (given over Kate’s knee). Hannah will count some strokes at beginning and end in the format, “One, thank you, Mistress, please may I have another?” Also, Kate and Hannah will complete their weekly reviews.


Effort must be made to be together on birthdays and major holidays, and observe traditions as set in the past.

Service & Routine


Each day, Hannah will complete any tasks that Kates gives her, to the best of her ability, before they are due, with a positive attitude.

Each day, at Hannah’s convenience, the following tasks should be completed or checked on:

  • Fetch and distribute the mail on a regular schedule.
  • Generally keep the house and car tidy.
  • File papers regularly.
  • Collect, wash, dry, and put away the laundry, following Kate’s guidelines; wash everything on a reasonable schedule; maintain any needed mending.
  • Keep surfaces and furniture clean/handle dusting.
  • Keep floors clean.
  • Maintain the pool and yard.
  • Handle the trash as needed.
  • Alert Kate to any home maintenance issues or handle minor ones.
  • Ensure the cats’ litter box is handled; alert Kate to any possible vet issues.
  • Restock specified items in the household as needed on a reasonable schedule.


  • Wake up by 8:10 AM.
  • Dress in her Uniform.
  • Complete her morning exercise routine (walk; one mile).
  • Make the bed and fold her blanket.
  • Adjust blinds, lights, windows, and scents.
  • Prepare another pot of coffee.
  • Water plants as needed, and see to the cats’ food and water.
  • Serve brunch at 9:30 AM, table and food to Kate’s preferences.
  • The kitchen must be cleaned immediately after brunch is complete.


  • Serve dinner at 6 PM, table and food to Kate’s preferences.
  • The kitchen must be cleaned immediately after dinner is complete, and a pot of coffee prepped for the morning.
  • Write her slave journal entry.
  • Shut all usual window coverings and lights; shut all windows and lock all exterior doors. Generally shut down the house.
  • Turn down the bed; lay out turndown card; unfold her blanket.
  • Be ready for the morning.
  • Fill the humidifier.


  • Ensure the air filters get changed.
  • Clean all mirrors.
  • See to any needed leather care.
  • Handle budget items on specified days.


  • Wash accessible windows.
  • Change HEPA prefilters.
  • Rotate the mattress.
  • Change toothbrushes.
  • Ensure the sliding door gets maintained.
  • Sharpen knives.


  • Have less accessible windows cleaned.
  • Clean walls.
  • Test household safety features.
  • Have an exterminator spray downstairs.
  • Get the vacuum serviced.
  • Change HEPA filters.
  • Ensure the cats get professionally groomed.


  • Have a home inspection once every five years.


Hannah is required to have Kate’s permission to do any of the following:

  • Touching herself sexually, or orgasming.
  • Showering, when Kate is home.
  • Inviting people over, when Kate is home or expected to be home.
  • Uploading photos, deleting photos, or setting a profile photo on FetLife. This does not apply to the TNG account.
  • Leaving the house for any reason other than getting the mail, going for her morning walk, or going to the office. 
  • Using the bathroom, when Kate is present and awake. (If in vanilla company, Hannah may request permission for this by tapping Kate’s knee three times. Kate will answer subtly/nonverbally.)
  • Making a phone or video call when Kate is present (Hannah will notify her when no longer on the call).  If she receives a call, she may answer, and will notify Kate as soon as possible.


  • Hannah may not unfriend anyone on FetLife; she may, however, unfollow. This does not apply to the TNG account.
  • Hannah may not change the thermostat, when Kate is home.
  • Hannah may not create an account on any standard social media platform.
  • Hannah may not be answerable to someone who is not Kate (ex: have a job).
  • Hannah will archive, not delete, emails unless they are explicitly spam.
  • Hannah may not use tobacco, nicotine, marijuana, vaping, alcohol, or smoking products.
  • Hannah will change her prescription medications only with the approval of the prescribing physician, and notify Kate for final approval.
  • Hannah will not use baby powder.
  • Hannah will not own any pets.
  • Hannah will not lock interior doors (she may lock the bathroom when company is present).
  • Orders that Hannah receives from other people are to be redirected to Kate for approval.
  • Hannah will speak respectfully and honestly to Kate at all times.
  • Hannah will answer any message, call, or summons from Kate requiring response as soon as she can.
  • Hannah will notify Kate when she is leaving the house, and notify Kate when she is returning, if she has been gone longer than twenty minutes. She will generally keep Kate informed of her plans and will allow Kate to track her location.
  • Hannah will park the car in the shade, and refuel before hitting 1/4 tank, if possible.
  • Hannah will be responsible for interacting with delivery people and answering the door.
  • Nighttime leashing protocols are as follows: if Kate is home and awake, Hannah will ask her to remove or put on the leash. If Kate is asleep or out of the house, Hannah may remove the leash for a few minutes if needed, and will releash herself upon returning if she does. If Kate is asleep when it’s time for morning unleashing, Hannah will wake her; if Kate is out of the house at that time, Hannah may unleash herself. Leashing or unleashing by Kate will be done in Leashing Position. Hannah will generally be leashed for the night at Evening Inspection. If Kate is out at that time, Hannah may leash herself for the night. If Kate is asleep at that time, Hannah will wake her. Hannah will sleep on the floor at the foot of the bed.
  • When entering Kate’s office, Hannah will wait quietly near the entrance until she is acknowledged. If Kate cannot see her from where she is, she may move into the room as needed and wait. If Hannah enters a space Kate is in and does not make eye contact, it will be assumed that she is passing through, retrieving an object, etc., and will not be counted as “in Kate’s presence” (and thus not requiring verbal exchange before leaving.)

Without Vanilla Company Protocols

  • When in Kate’s presence and not standing, Hannah will assume her General Kneeling Position next to Kate.  She will ask Kate’s permission before changing position on the floor.  She will not sit on the furniture or ask Kate’s permission to, unless directed by Kate.  This does not apply to the bed. She will wait behind her chair in Waiting Position before meals.
  • Before leaving Kate’s presence, Hannah will ask if there’s anything else she can do to be of service. If yes, she will do so first. When there is nothing else, she will ask for permission to leave. If granted, she will curtsy before she leaves.
  • Hannah will respond to orders with, “Yes, Mistress,” unless it would be disruptive to the conversation.  Response will be based on intention, not phrasing. 
  • Hannah will respond to permission or favor grants or denials with, “Thank you, Mistress,” unless it would be disruptive to the conversation.  Response will be based on intention, not phrasing. 
  • Hannah will respond to compliments or critiques with, “Thank you, Mistress,” unless it would be disruptive to the conversation.  Response will be based on intention, not phrasing. 
  • Hannah will address Kate as Mistress whenever clearly appropriate.
  • When asking for a permission, Hannah will use “may” (not “can”), always say please, and address Kate as Mistress, unless it would be disruptive to the conversation.
  • Hannah will wait for Kate to initiate interactions/speak only when spoken to. She may then assume permission to speak for the duration of that interaction. If she needs to request permission to speak, she will use Speech Request Position.


Slave positions include:

  • General Kneeling Position: kneeling on the floor where directed, knees apart, big toes crossed in back (right over left), hands folded at small of back (right over left, right thumb over left thumb), back straight. Transition to kneeling: place hands in position, lower slowly to both knees at once, keeping the back straight, without wobbling, then spread knees. Transition back to standing: close knees, kneel up, stand one leg at a time, keeping the back straight, without wobbling.
  • Leashing Position: kneeling on the floor at foot of bed, knees apart, big toes crossed in back (right over left), leash across both palms, hands resting on thighs, hair/head out of the way, collar o-ring in front, back straight. If Hannah is on the bed, she will sit up cross legged on the bed, the rest the same.
  • Corner Position: standing facing wall, legs together, arms boxed behind back, nose touching wall, back straight, silent and still unless prompted.
  • Inspection Position: standing in front of Kate, legs spread, hands clasped behind head, head/eyes straight, back straight.
  • Waiting Position: standing where directed, legs together, hands folded at small of back, right over left, right thumb over left thumb, back straight, head/eyes down.
  • Presenting Object Position: “General Kneeling Position”, but with object across both palms, hands resting on thighs, head/eyes down.
  • Speech Request Position: wrists crossed in front against the waist, fists closed.
  • Curtsy: from neutral/standing, back straight, lower head and eyes, grip hem of shirt or skirt on both sides between thumb and index finger and pull it slightly out, pinkies extended, place ball of right foot behind left heel, briefly bend at the knees, straighten, place feet back to neutral, release hem, raise head and eyes slightly.


For Hannah’s daily Uniform, she will wear her assigned black and red plaid top, black knee socks, black leggings, black bra, black underwear, collar, and wedding ring. She will keep her pager clipped to her leggings (she may also keep her phone there if desired; headphones are generally permitted). Pager and wedding ring may be removed and set nearby for tasks such as doing dishes. Shoes, if worn, will be the assigned black boots. She may choose her own jackets and bags until told otherwise, and use bathrobes, sunglasses, aprons, masks, and gloves as reasonable. Hannah will sleep nude, except for her collar/leash and wedding ring.

Her clothes should generally look neat, be in good repair, and fit well.  She will bathe regularly and shave any body hair each time she showers, keep her bangs at a reasonable length, and keep her nails short.  Kate will inspect Hannah’s job of shaving immediately after each time she showers, in Inspection Position. Her hair will be left down.

Hannah may add, remove, or change out Uniform clothing items without prior permission if it is necessary to maintain a vanilla facade.  She will notify Kate of it as soon as reasonable. Any other visible changes must be approved.

Daily Inspections

Each day at 10:30 AM, Kate will ensure that Hannah’s morning services were adequately completed, and let her know the results either way, handling punishment if necessary. She will inspect Hannah and her uniform in Inspection Position (Hannah should be waiting in position in the bedroom at 10:30). Hannah will offer Kate lotion. This will be happen immediately after Maintenance on Fridays.

Each day at 9:45 PM, Kate will ensure that Hannah’s evening services were adequately completed, and let her know the results either way, handling punishment if necessary. She will inspect Hannah nude in Inspection Position and then leash her for the night. Hannah should be waiting in position, undressed, in the bedroom at 9:45). Hannah will offer Kate lotion.


Hannah is subject to being punished by Kate. When Kate decides that Hannah should be punished, she will use the following method to do so.

  • Hannah will be instructed to fetch the Discipline Wand and go to the bedroom.
  • Hannah will wait in the Presenting Object Position, nude, and presenting the Discipline Wand until directed otherwise.
  • Before spanking, Kate will prompt Hannah for why she is being punished.
  • Kate will spank Hannah with the Discipline Wand in a position of her choosing, specifying if she is to count (format: “One, thank you, Mistress, please may I have another?”)
  • Hannah will be sent to the corner for some amount of time after her spanking, Corner Position.
  • Kate will release Hannah from corner time at the conclusion of her punishment.

Facing Issues

Both agree to raise issues verbally for small issues, and in writing for more involved issues.  The written report will include what happened to trigger the report, how it made the person feel, why they felt that way, what can be done to make it better right now, and what needs to be true for this to not happen again.  The issue will be raised as soon as possible within reason.

Light Slave Duty

Light Slave Duty is the term used to describe a period of time when Hannah will have reduced duties, due to illness, etc. Hannah may request Light Slave Duty, or request to be off of Light Slave Duty. Kate will decide when Light Slave Duty is in effect, and communicate this to Hannah.

While in effect, the following changes are observed:

  • Daily Inspections may be skipped with no punishment.
  • Service & Routine tasks may be skipped with no punishment.
  • Schedule items may be skipped with no punishment.
  • Note: Hannah must still prepare coffee for the next morning at her convenience.


The dynamic follows a total irrevocable consent model of M/s, and Hannah will not invoke safewords, limits, relationship termination, or any other form of refusal.  This contract is a tool to communicate the current understandings and cannot be “enforced” from Hannah’s side.  Kate may verbally make exceptions to, add to, remove, or change its contents, and will endeavor to maintain the overall integrity of the agreement as a matter of honor rather than due to enforceability.  If Kate chooses to dissolve the dynamic, she agrees to do so in a reasonable manner after due communication, and be open to ongoing discussion on further agreements. 


This document will be considered published when it has been printed out and signed by Kate and Hannah. At that time, it is considered in effect and remains so until and unless replaced.

What Protocol Really Says, Again

Dinner is on the table at six as always.  Lemon chicken and corn, lemons courtesy of the neighbors and their tree.  I send the requisite, Dinner is ready, Mistress, and wait in the standard position.  (Since then, we’ve gotten a pager system that covers this message.) 

Now that the house is silent after the bubbling of things on the stove and the hum of the oven, I can hear what sounds distinctly like the breathing of a sleeping person upstairs.

None of the usual sounds of motion come in response.

Still, I hold the required position and wait for several minutes in case I’m wrong.  Legs together, back straight, head and eyes down, hands behind my back, hands clasped right over left, right thumb over left thumb—every detail down. 

But eventually, feeling sure enough, I do a quiet check upstairs. Mistress is fast asleep.  Presumably not wanting to be woken. 

I go back down and eat, have moved from the table and cleared only an item or two when Mistress comes downstairs and sits.  So I approach; she grants, “You may sit,” and I do; she starts to eat and after a moment or two orders, “Entertain me.” 

So I start to tell her about whatever comes to mind, prep I’m doing for classes I’m teaching soon, things I’m adding to my website.  

She says, “You may get me more coffee,” and hands me her coffee cup.

I say, “Yes, Mistress,” to the order, and go do so, return.

“You may sit.”

So I sit and continue. 

She eats most of the corn and a few bites of chicken, stands and starts to wander off while I’m still talking, so I cut to the (at the time) requisite offer of a post dinner snack to have at hand upstairs.

She says yes, requests some of the cookies I made from scratch yesterday, ice cream with shell topping and sprinkles, and continues upstairs.  “Yes, Mistress.”  I prep the tray for her and bring it up, set it on her desk.  

“Would you like to go places?” she asks, offering permission to leave. 

I nod.

“Come give me a kiss; then you may go places.”

So I do.  As I draw back, her eyes drop a little, to about my hands, unnecessarily prompting the curtsy I always have to offer before leaving, and I go see to cleaning up dinner as required. 


This is a real example, and an average enough night for us, just one interaction of many that I’ve written down in detail, as the writer in me tends to do.  

But while I’m happy with this, I’m aware it’s the sort of thing other people sometimes cringe to watch.  There doesn’t seem to be a lot of overt deep connection in that above conversation to them.  

But it’s definitely there—that little flick of her gaze, waiting for the final exit protocol, the curtsy—says and means more to me than ten I love yous.  There’s a lot of ritual and protocol—conscious connection—built into that conversation, that speaks volumes, whether it’s where someone’s gaze moves to or an honorific or a service or a slave position—especially in our mutual quiet expectation of it.  

And, at times, obviously, conversations look different—more overt deep connection in the form that most people look for: what they call love.  The Hallmark movie kind. 

But to me, love is written all over that conversation in exactly the things I mentioned above.  Connection.  Those services and positions and honorifics are the result of countless hours of research, conversation, contract drafting, reaching, understanding, training.  The expectation of those things is built upon sometimes years of habit, routine, co-existing, obedience, consistent service, trust.  

None of those things happen without us talking to each other, understanding, adapting, learning, observing, caring, and deliberately carving the power dynamic out of the even ground we met upon.  It is the private language we build between us to say exactly what we want to say.  I love you.  I respect you.  I notice you.

Every protocol we have is thoroughly thought out.  

There might be research on practicalities.  (I didn’t learn to cook overnight.)  There might be conversations on what it means to us.  (Not being allowed on the furniture, with not being allowed to ask for it, either, waiting for the permission?  A whole talk on my views on being offered permission—generously—versus asking for it—a loaded question.) There might be her training me on how to do it properly, or me practicing alone, or both.  (That curtsy?  Those positions?  Hours in the mirror.)  There might be adapting it situationally, and figuring out when and how we need to do so.  (Cut the titles, positions, permissions in the rare vanilla company, say.) I have to do it consistently. (Thus, setting that expectation).  She has to notice and enforce it.  (Whether it’s offering a clearly desired permission I can’t ask for, creating service opportunities, or punishing accidental slips.)  

That’s a lot of connection behind the tiniest of protocols. 

And if commitment to each other and the language we deliberately build between us isn’t love—no matter how untraditional the results appear—I don’t know what is.