I’m an early riser. Even on my days off, it’s rare for me to stay in bed much past six. Today was no exception. I popped out of bed, thoughts of Project Longbottom swirling in my head. I got up, got my shower, got into training pants (as well as the rest of my clothes). Then I gave Mama a good morning kiss. We performed a private little every day ritual we have, then I tucked her back into bed and headed downstairs.
A few hours later, long past when I’d made my own breakfast, done a few hours of research, coding, and some chatting with friends, she trooped downstairs, and into a recliner for a relaxing late morning of video-gaming.
I hit a certain stopping point in my research, where I really decided I needed a snuggle, and maybe a cup of tea, and came out to the living room for the first of those. I sat on the floor by Mama’s feet, which she rested on me, as I sat my head in her lap, enjoying the closeness.
After a time, she asked me to make her some scrambled eggs. I got right to it. I decided to really do the job, using real butter, dill weed, some cheddar cheese.
I got them into a nice bowl, served them to her, and set about making my tea, a nice London Fog (sort of the cappuccino of tea). After which I showed it to Mama, to see if she wanted to try it. I said I wanted to get back to my coding, and said told me alright, and tried her eggs. Which she liked very much indeed.
She told me, grinning, that she thought I was very good to her. And I told her I’m her boy, and that I live to serve her.
Which is absolutely true.
The whole thing made me so happy I decided to write this post. This sort of thing, this is part of that greater truth I’ve been slowly discovering for months now. Yes, we’re kinky people, who enjoy scenes, enjoy play. Mama gave me a wonderful and very thorough caning at a party we went to back in February. That stuff was, is, and remains a part of our lives. But there’s this other part, the day-in, day-out course of living our truth.
It’s filled with learning, and with joy.
First there was the part where Mama told me, more than asked me, to make her breakfast. I love when she tells me to do things. I love doing them for her, too. For the briefest moment, my brain did the mental juggling of analysis, tagging and evaluating that “working on code” and “having some tea” were both not as important as “thing Mama told me to do.”
Once that was handily computed, and I did that task, it was like my whole body and soul were set upon it, and in the doing, I felt more myself. I was describing to some kink friends the other day how our dynamic has become a whole lot more m/s, how both of us consider me to be Mama’s property. I know this, but there are moments where I really, all the way down feel it. This was absolutely one of them.
Every single day, I feel like we’re both growing, both learning This Thing We Are Doing. We’re both getting more comfortable with it, and learning how it works.
It’s bliss.
