An uncollared slave or just a girl?

From March 1, 2009, until the evening of May 24, 2014, I lived as a collared slave. My life focus centered on my master. Over time, I became conditioned to always think in terms of what he wanted. If someone invited me somewhere, my response was always, “I need to ask permission.” When I shopped, I didn’t buy things I necessarily liked, I bought things he liked. When we were apart, I texted to let him know I arrived and texted to let him know I was leaving. I cooked and ate because he wanted to eat, not because I was hungry. When I was assigned travel for work, I always said, “I need to check the schedule at home before I can commit.” I always fixed his plate first at gatherings, got his drink, made sure he had no further need of me before attending to my own needs. Even in downtime, I was ever alert to orders and requests. Continue reading

Finding Normal

I was asked earlier today if I’ve written anything else about what is happening in my life, and I realized that I haven’t. I’ve been hibernating, and that is something I promised myself I wouldn’t do much of. There’s a lot of stuff that has been going on for awhile now, and I’m still really processing the changes that have come. But I realize that things have been a bit cryptic, and so thought writing might both clear some things up for people who have followed our journey from the beginning and maybe help me with some of my own processing. This writing may ramble a bit as it’s sort of stream of consciousness, so read at your own risk. Continue reading

Very difficult life changes

I have been told by a few people in the last couple of days that I do not owe explanations for the profile changes to anyone, and so it is not necessary for me to post any kind of update. Since so many people have followed along on our journey of the last year and a half, I wanted to squash rumors and give a little information. The whole story isn’t mine to tell and I will leave it up to Justin to share what he feels comfortable sharing when he is able. Continue reading

Heart of a Slave

I always enjoy seeing discussions of the romanticized things in our scene, most of which are associated with M/s in some way – the ‘gift’ of submission, ‘slave heart’, a master must master himself, etc.. In the past, I would get very involved in those discussions. But ultimately, I would be told by someone that my view hurt someone’s feelings or otherwise invalidated someone. And so I stepped back from those posts and generally just ignored them. Continue reading


When I was in my teens, 20s and early 30s, I spent a lot of time being medicated for depression and anxiety disorder. My anxiety disorder was so bad that at its worst point, I would often feel myself separating from my body, floating sort of above myself, while in some potentially dangerous situations like driving down the highway. I spent years cycling through many different anti-depressants, taking Xanax and Valium like candy. In my early 30s, I decided I didn’t want to take pills anymore to get through my day, and I worked very hard to get myself off of the meds. Now, I still have some times when I can feel myself falling into depression, and I work hard to realign my thinking, to pull myself out of it.

Having had that long experience personally has been infinitely helpful to me in the last several months. Continue reading

What does my slave identity look like?

I find myself over the last few weeks turning inward to examine who I am as a woman and as a slave. My life has taken many twists and turns over the last year, and each new fork or twist on the path seems to lead me to new thoughts and deeper examination of just who I am inside and what my life portrays to the world we inhabit. This writing will probably be a bit rambling and not necessarily coherent, but it will contain thoughts I need to get out and put back together, much like a jigsaw puzzle. Read at your own risk. And as usual, these are only my thoughts that apply to me, and so your mileage may vary. Continue reading

Competing for the SWLC M/s title

When we were asked to step into the Arizona M/s title and compete at SWLC, we knew that with only 5 weeks to prepare, we probably didn’t have much of a shot at winning the SWLC M/s title. Our hope going into the weekend was that we would represent well and not make the Arizona community look foolish for choosing us for this honor. We decided going into the weekend that we were going to have a good time no matter what happened. There was a little anxiety about the competition, but not nearly as much as we would have expected. Continue reading

What is a slave? Is it me?

For many years when I was first exploring life as a submissive, I was always quick to tell people, “I’m submissive but not a slave.” In fact, that was my tagline online for a long time. I thought slaves were mindless, weak-willed creatures who didn’t have original thoughts. Doormats. And I wasn’t about to become one of them.

Then I began to meet slaves who were powerful, thoughtful people. I learned from them that slave did not equal doormat. That slaves could be powerful, empowered, intelligent people. And I began to meet masters who desired powerful, intelligent slaves. I learned from them that to become enslaved was to become empowered and free. And so began my new path. Continue reading

Conversations and growth . . .

I had a couple of opportunities this week that reminded me of how powerful it can be to just talk with other slaves whose paths are similar to my own. To listen to their stories, hear my own path in their words, and think about my journey in new and different ways. It’s something I don’t take the time to do very often.

Life gets busy, I get bogged down with life stresses, and then just sort of hibernate, as an introvert is wont to do. I think, “I want to go to that discussion,” but then I’m so tired or just feeling overwhelmed by life, and I make the decision to stay home and just rest or do the chores that have been put on the back burner. I forget that sometimes recharging means visiting with others and not just sitting in my own space. Continue reading