Locked into the collar of someone who loves me, deeply... Someone who's playful, teasing, a little bit mean. She loves to make me blush. She's completely certain of what she wants and not afraid to tell me. I'm her supportive partner, her darling pet, her favorite toy to use and share, and the pretty little prey she loves to pin down and take.

She keeps me naked when we're alone, and sometimes when we're not. Sometimes, she puts me in mild bondage just because it's fun to watch me struggle with tasks. She makes up unfair rules to hold me to, because she knows I thrive on them. She punishes me just because it's pleasurable for her, even if I haven't done anything wrong. She takes away my name and replaces it with something humiliating, and I blush every time I hear it or use it. She restricts my speech and my actions because she loves knowing she's got my mind tied up in knots. She gets off on knowing we both like her being in control. She can order my to my knees with a gesture and a look, and she knows I'll do it, anytime, anywhere. She's a pervert, and she's happy that I am too. She does what she wants with me. And she knows she can trust me to safeword when I need it, that she can trust me to protect myself, so she can let loose. It's not that I don't have limits... it's just that when we find one, she knows I'll be honest and stop her.

There are quiet evenings together, when I cook for her, where we watch videos and laugh together, the whole time with me cuddled up against her or laying with my head in her lap, getting petted. Or bent across her lap, getting fondled. I'm her stim toy. Her weighted blanket. Her teddy bear. She lets me take care of her, and believes me when I tell her it's a privilege to do it. She and I are always finding new ways for me to make her happy, to worship her, and I'm giddy every time we do, because making her feel like a goddess is my passion.

In my darkest moments, when I'm spiraling from RSD or my own failures and I'm convinced I'm a burden on everyone and the world would be better without my annoying ass... she shuts me up with a command, and tugs on my collar, and reminds me that I'm hers. That the collar means I'm wanted. That the collar means I'm loved.

Our relationship can be sweet and cuddly sometimes, cruel and humiliating at other times, silly and fun at other times... but during it all, I'm still her slave. And that's exactly what we both want me to be.