Ownership means just that. How many times have you heard small children claim ownership to something? “Hey, that’s mine!” Well, that’s basically what it means to be a slave.

My Owner says, “you’re Mine. You belong not to your husband, your job, your friends, your family, your kids, or yourself; you belong solely to Me. And I get to choose who I share you with. I decide who may benefit from your services or presence. I allow you any perceived freedoms that you enjoy. I make choices for you every single day about things pertaining to you because I Own you. You will have what I want you to have. You will not have what I do not wish for you to have.”

It is endless. It is limiting. And it is ongoing. “You will wear this. You will not wear that. You will eat this. You will not eat that. You will exercise, you will take care of yourself, and you will sleep only during this time. You will go to bed at this time. You will rise at this time. You will behave this way towards this person. You will always do this. You will never do that…”

Imagine such a life.

This is what i mean by calling myself Master’s slave; His Owned property. Property that He cares a great deal for. Property He manages wisely like a very lucrative investment; because that’s what i am. He wants me to increase in value over time. He is not going to squander what He has. He tends to me carefully and well.

One thing i did before accepting the position of Master’s slave was to weigh very carefully the cost. And i think at the time, i was feeling internally ready for a big change in my life. Honestly, i was very frustrated with my life as it was. It was not bad, mind you, but it was not what i’d hoped. (And i suppose that speaks to almost anyone at any given time along the continuum of life) Being in that position greatly helped the transition to becoming an Owned slave.

Not only were big changes expected, i knew i had to assimilate myself quickly to the changes with a minimum of fuss, thus embodying the obedient slave. i’d had failures with Masters before due to my disobedience. Bam! End of Ownership. Some Owners don’t mess around too long with a disobedient slave. Yet, some Owners persist in working with a slave’s resistance. It all depends on the individual Owner. My Owner does not often meet resistance to His demands of me. But sometimes…

He takes what He wants. And He doggedly persists in effecting changes He wants in me as His property. If i am not particularly malleable, He continues to press and knead away until i am. Sometimes painfully.

What i like about Master is that He does not overly concern Himself with how i might react to something He wants from me. That most often doesn’t even enter into the equation. That i have no control is the biggest draw for me. If it weren’t so, i wouldn’t still be with Him. His power is truly absolute. And He knows this. And i can’t escape. What i want, [control] is what keeps me bound without rope or chains. He uses this against me, and to His advantage every single day i think. (Ethics aside. Master is not into law-breaking.)

i suppose i do worry sometimes. i worry that i might not be allowed to express all aspects of my personality to ultimate fullness. Hopefully i will be permitted to express all but the most objectionable parts, and that Master will deem those to be few and far between. i trust Master to decide.

In fact, trust plays such a huge role. Trust is what allows for my ever-deepening enslavement without any fear. Where does the trust come from? Simply from Master proving His fitness for the role of my Owner over time. i don’t see any other way to gain someone’s trust than through that. As trust grows, so does my enslavement, because Master can take a little more, and a little more, and a little more from me each day, week, or month. He chips away at me, taking and keeping what He likes, or discarding bits He doesn’t. i comply because i am enslaved by my need for control. The more i trust in His nonmaleficence where i am concerned, the more control i desire, and the more i contribute to my own enslavement.

i wonder if, without this desire, a slave could be so enslaved? If she did not want so much control, perhaps she would never become as deeply enslaved. i wonder if any Master could reach such such a level of enslavement in the face of great resistance? Perhaps… like in the case of long-term kidnapping victims whose spirit over time is broken by their captor. Another fantasy of many lifestylers. It does make one wonder…

Well, i can’t speak for others. i can only speak for myself. i do ponder from time to time how it is i got this far in my enslavement. i am a strong-willed person, and it seems to me almost antithetical that this has greatly contributed to my own enslavement. i never imagined such a thing could be possible, but there it is. i use my will to align myself to the various aspects of Master’s controls for me. Without such will, there would not be this level of enslavement.

What Master often must do, is refocus me when i get misaligned. This takes place in various ways, anything from a talk to something very painful and tangible. But we do seem to work together almost harmonically as Master and slave. We are both most at rest when each is in their given role. When not thus aligned, a definite, palpable disharmony exists and it is almost intolerable until realignment again takes place. This is mainly Master’s job, but if i notice i am not aligned before He does, usually my devotion is a good time to refocus. My very wise Master realized early on the importance of such a daily discipline for me, His slave, and its benefits have been proven time and again to keep the harmony and proper balance.

i truly love being Master’s property. His slave. His pet. His toy. His slut. His object.

Just His.

i wish i could understand the dynamic better. Over time, i am certain i will understand the relationship as my Master’s slave with greater clarity; perhaps in even greater simplicity. i do wonder about myself sometimes, because i am, as i have said before, not one known to go down easily; gracefully. i am a fighter. Who’d have thought that very fight in me would add to my own enslavement?