Journal 74
Marlene 48
Innkeeper
- Life
- The inn on nights with no guests
- Temper
- Steady and slow
Kinks
- She leads because he asked
- He does the small things she names
- She takes the long way
I am Marlene, forty-eight. I keep an inn. Carl is forty-four, and he is my husband. On the nights I write about here, the inn was empty. No arrivals. No one in the rooms. No one in the parlor except the two of us. I need that to stay true, and it was. After the quietest evening the book has had all year, he asked me to let him serve and to let the whole thing go slow. He likes the long version. He likes being useful with the fire low and the front door locked. Femdom here is not a show. There was no one to show. It was service, a slow burn, and the man I married asking me to take the lead. I did. The tray was set for two. The door stayed shut.
The blog
2 entries, newest first.
After check-in
Check-in hour ended on an empty book. Nobody had arrived. The inn was empty. I sat in the chair in my cardigan, shoes off, a tea tray for two on the low table. Carl stood barefoot on the rug, sleeves rolled. He is my husband. The house is ours, he said. Will you keep leading. Slow. Let me serve. I poured his cup, then mine. Service can look like tea…
Read full postThe parlor
The parlor was empty. The fire was low. I stood in the wool cardigan, honey-grey hair on my shoulders. He came in from the desk, the book closed, the sign turned. No one is here. The inn is empty. Then he said the rest, the part he had carried since supper. Let me serve you. Go slow. Lead me. I want the evening to be yours. I locked the front…
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