A death, whether anticipated or not is an experience unique to a culture, community, family, and individual. The southern part of the U.S. is no exception. I attended the visitation (that’s southern for wake) for someone recently who I felt I needed to pay my respects to, as she was always so good to my number one. Despite working in healthcare, I had a little covid-related anxiety about going. I could see the headlines about a super spreader event traced back to a small town nobody has ever heard of outside of the state. 

I made my way through the receiving line, and have survived the expected incubation period without any symptoms. As I talked with Drew later about the experience, I told my Master about my anxiety and strange feelings I had beyond the covid stuff. He was not surprised. In fact, he hit the nail on the head when he said it was just a reminder of my old life. 

I hadn’t thought of it like that, but it was the truth. Here I was, an owned slave, titanium encased, plugged, and proud of it. The experience was a reminder of a time when that was not the case. It was a reminder of a time that was filled with anxiety, insecurity, and fear at times. I hate those feelings. To say I hated that time in my life would be a lie. Without those experiences, I wouldn’t be who I am today. 

I talked with my Master about this in detail after I thought about it in depth. After listening, he brought tears to my eyes (the pain did that later in the day too, but this was different). He told me that I was worthy of being owned, not owned by just anyone but by him. He is proud of the man (and slave) that I am and have become. A man (and slave) that is confident and strong. A man (and slave) that is loved. A man (and slave) that he owns. I’m my opinion, a man (and slave) that he has helped make proud and confident and strong. Not only does he make me better, but we both see it. Axel, my Daddy, sees it, too.

Imagine this…a love where you can be truly yourself. An unconditional love, even if you happen to be a pervert who craves the feeling of your Master’s pain, his hands inside your (well, technically it is His) ass. That’s what my Master and Daddy give to this slave. I couldn’t be more proud to be owned. I couldn’t be more proud for others to know that Drew is MY Master and Axel is MY Daddy. The next time you see me at a wake, there may just be a grin on my face. It’s a grin because I will be making a list of reasons why I’m glad I have a new perspective on life and reasons why I’m worthy of such a Master and the reason’s I make him proud.

Damn, what an amazing life this slave has!