Two years ago today I met the short, muscle bound, hairy, sweeping ginger topped man with a deeeeeeeep Southern drawl I now call my slave for the first time in person. As most of you know, we had talked a bit and when we met, we met as friends as he was a “dominant top” himself and had a few boys whose asses he liked to blister every so often when time allowed.
We went to lunch at one of those local restaurants every city has where it’s a dive with inside and outside seating and the trendy staff with lots of tats and piercings who like to pretend that they don’t give a fuck you are there and we had a great time. I can actually put my finger on the precise moment I knew he would be my slave and it was within the first 3 minutes of sitting at the table. There was a vibe, and a moment, and I knew. I think he knew too, though I am not sure he realized that two years later he would be sitting in the same place having lunch with me with not a hair on his body, a titanium penis he doesn’t own anymore, and steel up his ass that very rarely leaves all while dressed in clothes I picked out for him.
I think one of the ways I know was that I had a broken foot when we met and was in a cast and his service side immediately kicked in It wasn’t just a Southern boy with a good manners, it was a submissive boy who aimed to please. A week later I had surgery and he was glued to me like a perfect service animal would be and we both just knew, that boy would be collared soon. Ironically, two years later, I type this while also in a cast for the same foot as surgery number five happened last week and, once again, the boy was and is here. And, as an aside, a pro-tip for the youngsters, don’t break a bone after 50 – especially one that carries your weight – one fix creates new issues and that fix creates others. That said, my whole foot should be titanium soon so maybe I can get some super powers or something.
Anyway, back to jack. I cannot tell you how proud I am of him and how he found something inside himself that not only had been awakened, but something that he let bloom and grow. Every. Single, Day. While some like to think slaves are not men or less than men, you all know I do not, and being a slave has MADE him a man. His confidence, his demeanor, his parenting skills, and his ability to deal with the uber religious world he grew up in are all 100 times stronger than they were two years ago. Yes, we have a hierarchy, and he’s at the bottom, but I fully believe that is just who he is and how he gains his strength for the real world.
This is my anniversary letter to him, MY boy who I own every fucking part of. I love you jack, and Axel and I can’t wait to grow old with you in our service.
Finally, just a note to remind readers that it’s not all sunshine every day. I had a message on twitter that said “you have the perfect life” and that bothered me. Yes, I have a pretty great one that is based on hard work, good genes, good education, good healthcare and a LOT of fucking luck. BUT, it’s not perfect, nor is anyone else’s life. Just a reminder, we talk about the perfect parts here, we tweet pictures with good lighting, we tell you about the good and I do that because there is too much bad in the world. None of it is false or embellished (aside from names) but I just want to say there are damn, dark and scary days too. There are days when I think jack would rather be a boyfriend than a slave and I have to remind him. There are days I’d rather him be a boyfriend than a slave and then I have to remind myself. There are days I want him, but his child comes first and there are days I think he’d sell his child to gypsies just to come get fucked, BUT, real life ALWAYS steps in and applies before anything. We do not share about those days because, why? Our aim is to show you that a Master/slave relationship can be fulfilling in so many ways and not abusive or degrading, unless both parties want and consent to that, so please do not compare most of what we say 1:1 because it fits us and your perfect will likely be different. Be you and find what fits YOU.