Way back when I was first getting to know her, my friend Sarah Noel used to refer to the dominant couple she was in service to as "her bosses."  As in "the bosses held me down and gave me a spanking last night," or "I have to ask the bosses if I can come visit you this weekend, Pal."  

It's something I found really endearing and enchanting, and it's stuck with me.  

My wife Missy is my boss.  I don't call her that, except occasionally in a sweet, funny, joking way.  Generally, I call her one of two things: Hunny (misspelled the way Winnie the Pooh does it) when we're doing vanilla, "cake" things, and Mommy most of the rest of the time.

Missy is a great mommy to me.  We've been together for over a decade now, and every day we learn a bit more about each other, about ourselves, and about how we interact.  Over the past year or so we've really been working on our mommy/baby dynamic.

I've been working hard to authentically let go, and let her be in charge.  It's among the happiest of things for me when she does so, too.  We're like anybody else,though.  We have our days when we're just Missy and Mako, eating pizza and playing video games. (That's a favorite story of mine I'll write down here another time.)  But more often than not our d/s and ageplay is in effect.  She says that mostly I do a really good job listening to her, and being obedient, but that one area where I do need a lot of work is in obeying her immediately when she tells or asks me to do something.  I'm still learning that unless I've got a damn good reason to the contrary, she is the boss of not just what I do but when I do it.  But we're working on that, together. 

That was certainly true Wednesday night.  At around 9:30 she told me to go upstairs, brush my teeth, take out my contact lenses, and put on my pajamas, and wait for her.  I hemmed and hawed just a tiny bit about it, and she gave me a serious look, and told me that meant to go do it right now.  I listened though, and she appreciated it.  When she came upstairs, she quickly, and efficiently diapered me for bed, and put me to sleep.  (Not that this is uncommon.)

In fact, my being diapered for bed is the de facto way it is.  Not wearing a diaper to bed is the exception, not the rule.  It's entirely not up to me if I wear a diaper to bed or not, and I'm not allowed to fuss or disagree about it in any way.  That's a very good way to get a not very nice spanking.    

 Not Mommy, nor her panties, but similar

Not Mommy, nor her panties, but similar

The next morning, she was up a bit before me, and I guess she really appreciated the effort I made the night before to listen and obey.  She went out of her way to change me out of my diaper, and then she did something I love: she pulled a pair of her panties out of the hamper, put them on my face, and told me she needed me to masturbate for her, right now.  

Which I did.  

I love Mommy's scent.  I love not being in charge.  I love having to  do what she needs me to do.  I love that I had to do it so we could get on with our day.  I came in fairly short order, and told her how very much I love her.

She kissed me on the cheek, and told me she loves me too.

Afterward, as I was showering, and then getting dressed, she told me that when I got home that night, we'd be getting ready for bed a bit earlier, because she wanted us to have a bubble bath together because she needed to shave my diaper area.  

That's exactly what happened, too.  During our bath, she ordered me to use this scratchy little loofa pad thing on her feet, which made her absolutely purr like a happy cat.  Then we cuddled together in bed a bit, before she diapered me up.

As I write this entry about yesterday, I'm still in that overnight diaper, and she's still asleep in bed.

I'm going to go give her a good morning kiss, because I love her, and because I'm so very grateful for the wonderful life we have together.

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AuthorMako Allen
Categories365 Gratitude