You pity me, don’t you, seeing me like this, with her? Don’t deny it, I can see it in your eyes. You see me as a victim, the unfortunate product of some past trauma or an unscrupulous lover. You want to rescue me, don’t you? You want to burst into my life screaming “sisterhood!” and pull me out of the chasm that I’ve found myself in, the dark pit of my life. You want to show me what you have, what I could have too… A life, a job, children, aspirations, responsibilities, expectation. You want to give that gift to me and free me from the world I live in.
Let me explain something to you, then perhaps you’ll understand.
I’m with you, one hundred percent. I want what you want. I want that freedom for all women. I want equality. I want liberty. I’ll march with you for votes, for fairness, for justice, for the freedom to choose your own destiny, all of it.
But here’s where we differ.
With your freedom, you choose your career, your kids, your family, your responsibilities, and I fully support that. Go sister!
But I choose a different path. I choose to give all of that up in favor of another destiny.
With my self-determination, I choose to reject my self-determination. Does that shock you? I choose to surrender myself to another, to become a possession. I choose to serve, to obey, to be a slave. I want someone to take away the decisions from me, to remove the responsibility. I want to be told where to go, what to do, what to wear, how to speak, how to act. I want the person that I am to be wholly determined by the whims of another, to become like clay. I want pleasure to be a gift from my owner, pain as well, if she so chooses it. I want to be sold and traded, objectified to the point where I am little more than a body, a cunt on legs, three holes and no will.
You’re shocked, I can tell. Well, I haven’t even started yet…
I want to be blank and mindless, aware but out of control. I want all decisions to be taken for me, including what I do with my body, who I am intimate with, who is allowed access to me. I want to give my consent to everything my owner does to me, in advance, without question. I’d even die for her if it came to that.
But it never would, you see? Because I know that my worthless life has value now, it has trust, it has love. I am an object and a toy, but I am a treasured possession too.
So you want to rescue me? Well, I want to rescue you too. I want you to have what I have. I want you to know a life of perfect obedience, of reward, of punishment. I want you to know what it’s like to be a pet, to have your thoughts and will drain from you with months of glorious conditioning.
Then, perhaps, you’d realize that I don’t need freeing. I’m already free. Are you?
Let me explain something to you, then perhaps you’ll understand.
I’m with you, one hundred percent. I want what you want. I want that freedom for all women. I want equality. I want liberty. I’ll march with you for votes, for fairness, for justice, for the freedom to choose your own destiny, all of it.
But here’s where we differ.
With your freedom, you choose your career, your kids, your family, your responsibilities, and I fully support that. Go sister!
But I choose a different path. I choose to give all of that up in favor of another destiny.
With my self-determination, I choose to reject my self-determination. Does that shock you? I choose to surrender myself to another, to become a possession. I choose to serve, to obey, to be a slave. I want someone to take away the decisions from me, to remove the responsibility. I want to be told where to go, what to do, what to wear, how to speak, how to act. I want the person that I am to be wholly determined by the whims of another, to become like clay. I want pleasure to be a gift from my owner, pain as well, if she so chooses it. I want to be sold and traded, objectified to the point where I am little more than a body, a cunt on legs, three holes and no will.
You’re shocked, I can tell. Well, I haven’t even started yet…
I want to be blank and mindless, aware but out of control. I want all decisions to be taken for me, including what I do with my body, who I am intimate with, who is allowed access to me. I want to give my consent to everything my owner does to me, in advance, without question. I’d even die for her if it came to that.
But it never would, you see? Because I know that my worthless life has value now, it has trust, it has love. I am an object and a toy, but I am a treasured possession too.
So you want to rescue me? Well, I want to rescue you too. I want you to have what I have. I want you to know a life of perfect obedience, of reward, of punishment. I want you to know what it’s like to be a pet, to have your thoughts and will drain from you with months of glorious conditioning.
Then, perhaps, you’d realize that I don’t need freeing. I’m already free. Are you?
