Measuring

Here I am, staring at my 31st birthday down the barrel and thinking, “How do other people measure my life?”

I don’t have kids and don’t intend to (fingers crossed Master never goes down that ‘breeding path’ that he likes to threaten me with from time to time and that gives me nightmares for days afterwards).

I’m not married and don’t intend to get married (…again…lol…been there once and that was sufficient thank you very much!)

I don’t have a gold-embossed career or even a job (…yet, although I would like one!)

I don’t have a car, because I don’t drive.

I don’t have a house, because it left it in Japan.

I don’t have money.

I’m a slave and that’s all. 

I don’t have any of the ‘normal’ rites of passage that people go, ‘Oh, great!’ about and that they can ask questions about and that I could talk about. I guess that’s why I’m pretty stumped for conversation when I go to parties. There are, afterall, only so many things you can say about the weather.

Before I came back to Australia, I pretty much had it all- except for the kids part…lol. I had lots of things to talk about and combined with the whole ‘exotic life in a different country’ thing, a lot of people lived vicariously through my stories and anecdotes. I think I measured up pretty well in most people’s books.

In the realm of slavery I guess I measure up pretty damn well too. I have a Master who keeps and uses me as a slave, the whole kit and caboodle of slave accoutrements- collar, cunt rings, tattoo, cage – and am basically a kept woman…lol. I suppose a lot of people read my musings in this blog and think, ‘Gee, I wish I lived like that!’ 

I’m not saying that my life is bad in any way. It’s just different and I wonder what people think. Do they think, ‘Poor girl, no kids, no hubby…’ or ‘Lucky her!’ I guess that would depend on whether they are ‘kink-friendly’ or not, but I do sometimes wonder. Living in a society where getting married and having kids is the norm, I do feel somewhat out of place.

A few months back I first talked about not wanting to have kids and thus began a tirade of comments divided into two camps of thinking. The first camp was the, ‘How-could-you-be-so-selfish-that’s-what-women-are-put-on-the-planet-for!’ and the second camp was the, ‘I-love-my-kids-but-wish-I-didn’t-have-them!’ camp. It was interesting to see the two very different ideas and the two very different ways of looking at life and women.

I know I don’t have to compare my life to anyone else’s and as long as I’m happy I shouldn’t give a toss what other people think, but sometimes, I just do stop and wonder.

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2 thoughts on “Measuring

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  1. Your still not thinking straight

    Well measuring your life is another example where your applying free person thinking to yourself, your a slave your opinion about your life isn’t really relevant as your owned and my proeprty and it’s what l think or whoever your owner is next thinks that counts.

    You can say your happy or unhappy, but what does that really mean as being a slave you can’t change it can you as you have no power to do so do you.

    It’s a concept that is irrelevant to your circumstance, you should be thinking about what you can do to please and serve your Master and owner. You should be thinking about how your Master use may be better served by your mind and body and how your Master enjoyment should be heightened by you his slave.

    You don’t have anything because a slave doesn’t own they are owned, they are the property of another, whatever a slave may have they have simply because their owner allows them that thing or item or freedom at that moment in time.

    Same as you talk about not enjoying the pain, so what, it’s not your place to enjoy, it’s not your place to complain its your place to accept.

    Yo’u say you for many years fantasied about slavery, you experimented with bondage and toys that you left a 10 year relationship and marriage and material possessions in Japan for a slave lifestyle.

    A slave lifestyle you have and a slave you are, so what’s the issue, what’s the complaint about being a slave.

    Your collared and marked as a slave, your treated and kept as slave, your questioned about being a slave, you give the answers about being a slave, do you actually listen and understand the emaning of the words you utter.

    I am a slave

    I have no rights and no choices

    I am owned by you

    My body is for your USE and PLEASURE

    I am collared permanently as l am slave

    I am permanently tattooed as being your property

    My cunt has been ringed by you to mark it as slave cunt

    My slave cunt can be used bv anyone you give me to for their Use and Pleasure

    I am not free

    I will not be free

    When you have finished wiht me you will sell or give me to someone else to own and use

    I have no right to choose my owner

    You ceased being who and what you were when l took you as my slave

    You offered yourself to me as a slave

    You came to me free and l enslaved you

    I collared marked and ringed you

    Your mine, your not my wife, defacto, girlfriend or companion

    L may ask you what you want to do, would you like to do this or go there, but l also spoil my dog and treat him as puppy and not dog and we both know the dog whisperer is against that as the place where bad behaviour begins and you don’t blame the dog you train the owner.

    So prehaps l should stop treating you so well and treat you as the menial object you are and keep you naked in boots at home or dressed permanently in slut wear when we go out without having to tell you everytime what to wear.

    Maybe l need to attach a leash to the couch bottom so we know that WOW is not allowed to be played and your place whether l have a task or use for you is at my feet at all times.

    Maybe l need to mark you somewhere else on your body prehaps your cunt facing area with something more tangible to highlight your status and use.

    Maybe we need to pony train you so we can ensure your mental state is appropriate to your lifesstyle.

    You are a slave, nothing less nothing more, you belong to me and l own you and will use for my pleasure how and when l want for whatever prupose l want.

    I don’t owe you an explanation for what l do to you and l don’t owe you an apology.

    You simply don’t have the right or the expectation to anything at all, you exist to please me and thats all you need to worry about doing.

    As l say You are required simply to be obedient at all times

    Your education has been lacking and your lifestyle has had too many variable mixed messages for which l am sorry for.

    The dog whisperer is right a dog to be happy needs to be treated and trained as dog and its owner expectations of it need to be that of a dog, so it shall be for you from now your a slave and thats what you will be treated as.

    Master

  2. Ouch

    Brutal.

    Clear.

    Concise.

    And worse yet,,,

    True.

    When you submitted to becoming a slavegirl your life changed. The thoughts you express are those of a life which truthfully is no longer part of your being.

    The old kitten ceased to be, that life ended. A new girl, nameless, rightless, meaningless sprang into being. Her collar, her brand became a new definition of existance.

    As a slave you own nothing, you instead are owned.
    As a slave your whims, wishes, will all mean nothing.

    This turmoil you express is something that you should let go of. Being out of place is not something you or any slavegirl should be concerned with. Your place is where you are. Consider nothing else beyond that.

    Avoid confusing a permissive master with the old free kitten who could get a ice cream from the Macindons rainbow room when she wished.

    It’s only natural that you feel out of place in a room full of free people, You are mistaken to try and seek more than the place you already have.

    You are already in your place. You chose it, stop fighting that choice and accept it. All of it. You might even be surprised how happy you may become.

    Cease comparing what was with what is. Cease and avoid such arrogance, that will get you a dance with the lash.

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