Managing a FLR lifestyle and preventing the vanilla coliding into it!

We’ve had an interesting few days here at home.  Madam is back to full health and enjoying herself as usual and Master has been here at home as well.

Several weeks ago we planned to have a BBQ for Saturday but the weather conspired against us so it was more of a an indoor grilling session.   now this is all part of looking a head and planning things and booking things.

While our family (well Madam’s family really) think that this is a bit to formal they do accept it, they know that we value our privacy – for obvious reasons – and they know that they have to call before they turn up, we definitely don’t do surprise visits.  They can turn up at short notice but at a good 30 minutes head start to change and to hide things helps!

so the scene on Saturday is Madam and Sir in the lounge and the table in the dining room set up with salad and nibbles.  I’m in the kitchen grilling some burgers and sausages with Master popping occasionally out to check on the meat that he had in a smoker outside.

There is a few ciders and white wines being consumed and we are determined not to be beaten by the crap weather.

Madam is looking fantastic is a light floral skirt but with a wool cardigan on and I’m pottering about in casual dress.

The phone rings at about 3pm and Madam answers it while I’m with Master sorting out the beef that he has brought in.  Madam comes in with her hand over the mic…

“Mick, it’s your brother!”  Now the look on her face wasn’t good and for her to use “Mick” was also telling.

I’m pretty much estranged from my side of the family.  They were a bad influence on my life and rather controlling in a bad way – my FLR with Madam is definitely very positive for me.  Now the issue that I have is that my brother shouldn’t have the phone number.  it was given to my Mother only for emergencies – and mean is some one dies, that level of things.

“Ah Michael, glad I caught you at home.  we’re in the Milton Keynes area and we thought we would come round and say hello, sort of catch up.”

Now, I haven’t been called Michael since I left home in the 80’s and I’m not going to start again now, also the last person that I would want in my home would be my Brother.  If ever there was an intolerant Arse it is him.  If he wanted to see me there must be something afoot.

“What are you after?”

“oh just a catch up, it’s been years…”

“It’s been years for a fucking reason!”

and from that point I went into full rant mode, giving my brother both barrels from the “emotional shotgun” and telling him to go and fuck himself.

I pretty much left home when I was 17 to get away from the control of my family and headed back to the Midlands to live with my Uncle, working on building sites and eventually getting taken on as an apprentice surveyor.  while my Dad and brother intended to keep me in the family business and work for next to nothing while gaining no qualifications and being manipulated to do what they wanted work wise – no not for me and if I could spot it at that age it must have been bloody obvious.  My brother was always going to be the successor to my dad and the business but he also gained all of the nasty business practices that went with that.  Over the first few years away from my immediate family I pretty much learned what a ruthless team they were, so I’m very comfortable about stepping away from that part of life.

My brother is one of those people that smiles and talks well to get in with you, but once he is in he would dig, and latch on and then bleed you for anything he could, either in business, in life or often just for his own amusement.  Pretty toxic and unfortunately he isn’t alone.

The conversation ended with a very curt “goodbye!” and I clicked the phone off and looked round to find my wife looking at me open mouthed and John just about to wet himself with laughter!

“What?” was al I could ask.

Master was the first to get himself together “Bloody hell Mick! if you can give someone that level of a bollocking and abuse when in a skirt and heels, what the hell are you like in normal work mode!”

I caught my reflection in the glass doors and he had a point, I was stood there in a short pleated skirt and a yellow blouse – with tan stockings, suspenders with my caged penis in its chastity. while wearing 4″ heels.  Yea, all a bit of a contrast!  You couldn’t help laugh when you look at it in that way.

So here I was stood in my kitchen with my Mistress Wife and her Boyfriend who cuckolds me while dressed in women’s clothes while enjoying some wine, cider and some good food, so for those that think that we should embrace the vanilla rather than the FLR – no thanks.  My vanilla life was pretty crap thanks and the path to FLR was a learning experience but now that we are here it’s a far better place and we like it here, in FLR land, and I’m damned if I want that spoiled by the old vanilla life crashing into it!

Life isn’t just black and white, there is a whole spectrum of Grey and we – Madam Alice, Master John and Sissy billie – like it!

so the motto is – “ditch the toxic and embrace the FLR”  or as Madam once put it “Life is better in stockings, suspenders and heels” – she has a point!