You like it when you’re treated like you’re worthless. You think you’re not worth anything – that you’re a slave, a piece of property and nothing else. You don’t deserve anything. You’re worth nothing and have nothing.
So went the script to my morning ravishing session. Normally I enjoy Master’s verbal pearls of wisdom about me and my thoughts, but every now and then he’ll say something that I can’t shake from my mind and I’ll lay there composing a blog as he does his thing.
That’s what happened this morning and thusthere is blog.
I’ve thought in the past that knowing that I was the lowliest of the low – thinking that I was the scum on the shoes of the scum on the shoes of the scum’s amoeba was a good head space for a slave to be in. It seemed the right thing to think. I mean, if you’re property without rights and choices and have to be obedient to your owner 100% of the time, you’re on the same level as that amoeba scum. I think in the past that my fantasy mantra was ‘I’m not worthy’ and part of me longed to be the one crawling around on the floor at the feet of my owner because that was my ‘place’. That’s what I thought I should be feeling. That’s what I wanted to feel because….. I guess……I felt I should be.
But the reality is, as I lay there this morning I thought I don’t want to be owned because I’m worthless, I want to be owned because I’m precious. I’m not something that can be tied up and beaten because I’m the scum of the earth and deserve no better, I’m something that needs to be locked up and never freed simply because I’m too valuable to let go.
I’ve talked before about the security that a D/s relationship gives me. To me, the beatings and the bondage and all the other stuff involved is a manifestation of the love, the lust and the importance of the other person to you. The more there is, the more secure I feel, the more valuable I think I am and ultimately the more I want. So while I don’t think anymore that I’m ‘not worthy’, I do think that I’m worthy of a beating or two or three.
Maybe that’s what wrong with me, why I don’t come across as the easily pliable slave, always smiling, always happy, no matter how much or how little use there is. Maybe that’s why I bitch and moan and complain about everything all the time. Maybe I think too much of my self and have positioned myself way above where I really should be.
And after all that pondering I return to what Master thinks of me. He has said to me before on numerous occasions that while I am ‘very special’ to him, I am and will always only ever be his slave. He has drummed into me the fact that that is all he wants me to be and all he wants out of our relationship.
But what does that really mean?
Does that mean that he thinks of me as his lowly slave who is lucky to have him or as his valuable slave who he is lucky to have?
Perhaps in some ways I’m both. Lucky to have and to hold; from this day forward until death do us part.