It’s only a week into my first full-time job and i have already been through a rollercoaster of ups and downs. Every morning i’m up at 5am, drive to work at 7:30am, finish around 8pm, and then get back home for dinner around 10pm. The routine is automated and self-repetitive. i’m feeding the big corporate money machine. i guess that’s what modern slavery refers to.

On one hand, i miss that intimate connection with Master, on the other hand, i am partially glad that we live distant to each other, because in some ways that reduces the disturbance to Him. While we are still working out how our M/s dynamic is going to keep sparking nicely in this new routine, there are certainly ways, or things, that i do everyday to keep my slaveboy mind focused.

i am not entirely sure of the underlying reasons and causality of my nature as a slave or submissive. But i do know that i lose my sense of balance if i don’t keep my slave mentality in my consciousness. Like cars need fuel to work, my being requires a certain fuel to maintain a sense of balance in life.

Perhaps it is because being a slave has manifested all the special goodness in me, such as serving from the heart, being respectful, humility, and a sense of contribution and sacrifice. All of those things make living nice. What makes being a slaveboy nice is that these qualities are not bound in terms of sexual or non-sexual. Servitude, respectful humility, contribution and sacrifice are fluid terms. They can be sexual (providing sexual services that pleases our Dominant), and non-sexual (cleaning the household, running errands, working for our Dominant).

i think the danger with getting swept up in something external (in this case, a new job) is that i know that if i don’t regularly bring focus to my slaveboy mind, my engine will start to run low on the fuel that gives me the balancing power for the journey ahead.

KEEPING MYSELF FUELED THROUGH ROUTINE

i’m in a long distance Master and slave relationship, and we rely heavily on trust, faith, and a lot of time and hard work. Every morning when i wake up, before i leave my house, i snap an inspection photo or video for my Master, and His “good morning slaveboy” gives me the grounding sensation i need to get to work. i feel validated that there is a sense of significance and it all has some kind of meaning.

i sleep on the floor every night. i have tried not sleeping on the floor in the past, but it always ends up with me feeling lethargic and agitated. After a week of sleeping on the bed, i always end up back on the floor, even though i am living alone and there is a queen size bed. There is something special for me, as a slaveboy, about sleeping on the floor.

After a shower, i usually clean my piercings and flatten a big bed sheet on the floor and lay down on it naked, with my small chastity device and collar. i close my eyes and i can feel the contact points between my bones and the concrete floor, the uncomfortable neck position with my head touching the floor, my hips that don’t have comfortable support. All these physical points of unpleasantness provide my masochistic mind with a sense of blissfulness. It comforts me to validate myself as a slave that is owned, as i depart into imagining a time of living with my Owner in future days.

From a philosophical perspective, there is humility and a constant reminder of my being temporal and impermanent. i can live independently from luxurious goods, or creature comforts. Historically, there have been so many who have slept on the floor, for protest, from homelessness or poverty, and this act of sleeping on the floor gives me some kind of sense of place in the timeline. It is some kind of merger of how i want to live philosophically and as an owned slave.

BACK TO THE FUTURE

Three or four years ago, i couldn’t quite understand or express my desire to sleep on the floor. We went for a trip through Vietnam, and it was early in our polyamorous relationship. Because i wasn’t earning any money at the time, i requested to sleep on the floor beside Master. It has always been my gesture of respect as the secondary submissive entering an established relationship, and i wanted to express the message of “i am not here to disturb, or challenge, i am really happy to just have a corner that is not needed in the house, and all i want is to be used and serve when it is desired”.

It started off that way, and over time it has become a silent house rule that i enjoy as a slaveboy. i find a satisfying amount of identity encapsulated by a simple act: sleep on the floor without clothes”.

Fast forward the timeline, and every morning a photo for Master’s inspection, every night a “goodnight Master” text as i close my eyes, all the hard edges of my bones in contact on the concrete floor. There’s the same sense of contact me and the floor whether i am sleeping somewhere in the suburbs of Malaysia, or on that carpeted floor in Singapore by Master’s feet.

And, I know that when i wake up tomorrow, there are things to do for our future.