We celebrated 8 years as Owner and property over the weekend. It was very low key but no less wonderful. I’m ever so grateful that 8 years ago Master came to Pittsburgh to collect me as His property.
For the last 8 years Master has opened the mail, giving me what He felt was appropriate. I’ve never really given it a second thought. Like in all things, I trust Master do to what He feels is right, the mail is no different. Nothing can bring me back down to realizing that I’m property quicker than realizing that He throws mail away on occasion without telling me about it. How’s that for a quick lesson on your status? Taking someone’s mail is a federal offense for most folks, but around here all mail no matter whose name is on the address label is Master’s period.
No matter how long I’ve been a slave, every once in a while something happens that is a real snap to my thinking. This mail thing was such a thing. Maybe that’s a symptom of loving M/s relationships. Master does love me and sometimes, while I never doubt that I am very much His slave, I let myself get sucked into the love/girlfriend feelings and then am shocked back to reality with His actions that show me that I am His property, period.
Mail call around here isn’t when the postman comes by but whenever Master decides it is so. As property, I know I’m not entitled to my mail and honestly I’m grateful that Master handles everything that comes our way, however; sometimes things occur that make me stop and really feel what it means to be owned property not girlfriend or even woman.
