I recently read the blog of another submissive her on the stream. She had a list of things that had happened to her this past year. Big, life-changing things. I felt a little sad because, I thought, nothing exciting had happened to me.

Then I began to make a list:

My son graduated from high school and moved on to college.

My job changed dramatically, requiring me to work in two school systems.

Chip died.

I bought two new (different) cars.

I maintained my weightloss. (Doesn’t sound like a big deal, but believe me, it is!)

All of these things came to mind as big events in 2007. Alright, I didn’t change partners or find the love of my life. (Wait a minute, I already did that. Master and I found each other before 2007 began.) I didn’t have earth-shaking sex that I will remember forever. But life has changed. And although change can be exciting, it can also be stressful.

So here’s to 2007 and all it has been, both good and bad. Cheers!

No, today is not my birthday. Yesterday was. Master told me to take a day off from writing.

Master and I also discussed how I should spend the day. I wanted to take it easy, perhaps go out, pamper myself. Master, on the other hand, felt that the day should be spent in service. We talked about working at a soup kitchen or at an animal shelter. Unfortunately, these conversations took place the day before my birthday, and I found out it is much more difficult to volunteer than I realized.

It seems one does not just walk into a place and say “I’m here. What should I do?” Most places seemed to require a form to fill out, often some sort of orientation and a background check. Sad, but true in today’s world. Perhaps I should also say that I live sort of out in the middle of nowhere. The community that is the hub of the area, with a Walmart and several grocery stores and the like, boasts about 12,000 people. We don’t have soup kitchens here. I would have to travel 90 miles to find one. I told Master that I felt I had failed him. He said I had not failed because I had tried.

One thing I did do was the day before my birthday, I was working, and I brought cake and ice cream to those at work. I enjoyed sharing and celebrating with them. Master thought that was good, but as I told him, I had already chosen to do that. It was not something I did because he asked me to serve him by serving others.

Then, today, a “service opportunity” happened. I worked until 3:00. After that, I rode the exercise bike (my 50 minutes of activity). A coworker asked me to keep an eye on her dog that she brought for the people in the house to enjoy. No problem. I did that. Even after my 50 minutes was done, I hung around and shared the dog with the clients, making it easier for her to do her job. Finally, at supper time, I helped serve the people their food. I did not stay to eat because I had food at home that I wanted to get eaten up. Finally, after everyone was seated at the table and served, I said, “Why am I still here?” That was when I left, nearly two hours after I clocked out.

I hope, Master, that I have served you. Sometimes that best service opportunities are not planned.

Jaric and his companion entered the plush office. Jaric took a seat across from a large, impressive wooden desk while the man sat on his makeshift throne and began to shuffle through some papers.

“So, Hauntly, things are going as expected?” Jaric asked.

“Perfectly,” Hauntly replied.

“Good. I want to talk to her,” said Jaric.

“Oh, no. It’s much too early for that. These things take time, Jaric.”

A little irritated, Jaric asked, “How much time?”

Hauntly looked at him sharply. “This is for a lifetime, is it not? And we want to do things right. Don’t rush things.”

“I am tired of waiting.”

Hauntly sighed and his look softened. “I know. But we have to give her time. She needs to adjust.”

Jaric made no reply. His thoughts were on the woman in the examining room.

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The woman in the room noticed things begin to change. Not big changes. Little ones. Sometimes, as she awoke, she would see a fleeting glimpse of a robed figure leaving the room. At first she thought she was dreaming. Then she began to lay in bed awake, waiting for someone to come. She would hear a person quietly enter the room and put something on the table. Upon opening one eye, she could see a figure in a gray robe enter and put something on the table.

“Who are you?” she asked, bolting upright in the bed.

The figure froze for a fraction of a second, then dashed out the door.

“Hey, wait!” she shouted. By the time she got herself up and went after the specter, it was gone.

“Damn it, who are you? What do you want with me?”

Her question went unanswered.

You never hear a child say those words. So why do many adults hate Christmas?

For many of us, Christmas brings so much work. There is the extra cooking and baking. If you are hosting Christmas dinner, add extra cleaning both before and after the fact. There is shopping to do and presents to wrap and worries about if you bought the right thing for everyone. The tree and decorations go up, then they come down. None of this happens by itself. After Christmas is finally over, many adults are exhausted.

But kids often do many of the things mentioned and it doesn’t bog them down. Why not? For children Christmas is a time for dreams to come true. They wish for the things they want and anxiously await opening the presents. If they get some of what they asked for, they are thrilled. So why aren’t adults?

Well, we know that the new car or the new HDTV will not be under the Christmas tree. We cannot afford the fancy presents that we wish for. So, I give the kids a list, and guess what? That’s what I get. Not everything on the list, mind you, but some of it. And what things did I wish for that I received this year? A desk lamp, new bowls, a mop and bucket, the newest book by Dean Koontz. My youngest did manage to pleasantly surprise me with a DVD of the latest Harry Potter movie, which included fancy bookmarks (cool!).

I truly am not a Bah! Humbug! sort of person. I enjoy the holidays in many ways. I get to see family and friends that I don’t always connect with. I enjoy the pretty lights and decorations. And I thrill to see the excitement in young children. But I understand the feelings many adults have for Christmas. The magic ain’t what it used to be.

Note: I posted a version of this earlier, but Master was not happy with it. He said it was too weak and too short. I have attempted to revise it. I am not sure it is better. It is only a little longer. As to being weak, well, comments are welcome.

“Mom got a collar!”

Not too long ago, she had exchanged presents with Him. He had not been able to spend Christmas day with her, so they met at His home. As they prepared to trade presents, He had laid this one aside. “This is special,” He said. “You will not open it now.”

He had opened the watch that she gave him, and together they watched the movie she received from Him. When the evening was over, He gave her the last present with the admonishion, “You are to put this under your Christmas tree. Do not open it until Christmas morning. I want to you have a piece of Me there with you at that time.” As usual, she did not question Him.

Now she was sitting around the Christmas tree along with her widowed father and her children from an earlier, ill-advised marriage. In her hands she held a collar. It was made of good quality leather, and was black in color, with an O ring in front for attaching a leash.

But this wasn’t just any collar, and she knew it. It was a bdsm collar, designating her place as slave and His as Master. It represented her submission to Him, His dominion over her, and their devotion to each other. It was a signal to those who would understand it of their place in the lifestyle of bdsm.

Her family, however, would not understand it. Nor did she wish to explain.

“A collar?” her father said. “What kind of gift is that??”

She knew that Master liked to see her think on her feet, and that was one of many reasons he had her open the collar in front of her family. “He knows how much Chip means to me,” she said, referring to the dog who was wondering between the Christmas revelers, sniffing them and their presents in turn. “Look, it even has blue suede on the inside so it doesn’t hurt his neck.”
Upon hearing his name, Chip came to her side, wagging his tail. He sniffed the collar, and, finding nothing there to eat, turned his attention to the rest of the family. That’s right, she thought, walk away. You’ll never wear this collar.

What she didn’t show her family was how the collar was fastened. Instead of a regular buckle, there was a small paddlelock. She didn’t see the key; she assumed that it was with Him, as it should be. He controlled the collar, and its wearer.

They seemed satisfied, if a little stymied, by her answers, and she smiled to herself as she thought, Thank you, Master.