Rules of Being Owned

Rule Number One- There are no rules except the ones you make.

In the last day or so I’ve thought about the rules Sir has set for me more than usual. Partly because of the question posted here, and partly because last night I had a more difficult time than usual following a rule. Particularly the one that prevented me from doing this 

I can be a pretty independent woman. I have a pretty decent head on my shoulders, and for the most part I don’t like to need people. (As my relationships got more serious, that was always a problem for me) So when it came to the rules a Dominant would want to impose it was sometimes a struggle.

I once served a Dom that wanted to control everything. When and what I ate. What I wore. When I cleaned. How often I contacted him. It did’t last long. I felt stifled, and micro-managed, and just bad.

Now I serve a Dom that in reality probably has more rules than the aforementioned one. However, his rules make me feel cherished, loved, special, and owned. Sir’s rules remind me that I don’t belong to myself, they send me further into my submission, and that makes me feel hot and whole.

So you won’t find me complaining that I have to exercise four times a week, or that he knows my schedule for the day, or that if there any major changes I must notify him, or that I am not allowed to wear my hair up without permission, or that paying a bill late will have negative consequences, or that I have to take 30 minutes to myself daily, or that I must wear an approved outfit when we attend lifestyle events, or that I don’t dare orgasm without his permission, or that I can only masturbate on Mondays.

The list goes on, but those are rules I strive to obey.

Because I am submissive

Because I am fulfilled

Because I serve

Because I love Him



Forever Sir

This is the best day of my life. I thought that to myself Saturday evening when I was dancing with the best bridesman EVER. I thought that, until today, when I thought again, this is the best day of my life.

I am taking a minute to write, because I don’t want to forget a minute of how I felt this morning. I thought writing would help but I find myself at a loss of words describing my feelings. Great, wonderful, blissful, gleeful, complete contentment– none of those fit. So I will write what happened.

Sleeping in never felt so good. Brunch was at 11, and we partied too hard again last night. When Jackson and I finally made it back to our cabin It was 9:30 and I awoke to an absent husband. That was disappointing. It got better. I rolled over to see he was sitting in the chair across the room.

“Good morning Sir” … he didn’t respond, just looked at me. His face so unreadable I began to worry for a moment. His eyes moved from me to the floor. I obeyed promptly, kneeling at his feet, still slightly concerned.


A certain someone distracted me yet again. It has been days now, and my emotions from the moment aren’t as strong, but every word is seared into my head. I shall finish telling my story though.


“It was difficult keeping this from you, but the moment had to be perfect. Timing is everything wouldn’t you agree.”

“Yes, Sir” I said head bowed. I could feel his eyes on me, his left hands smoothing the hairs on my head.

“Look at me baby” he said softly in an odd tone, for an odd mood. When our eyes met he was quiet again for a moment. “Saturday I made promises to you: to treat you as my own body; to stick by you through thick, thin, ugly, and nasty; to love you no matter what as your husband. Today, I make promises as your owner.”

Stupid tears came, I promise I didn’t turn into a complete blubbering mess.

“Today, I promise to lead you through your journey as you accompany me on mine. I promise to not only love you as my wife, but as my submissive; to never take for granted the trust and faith you’ve put in me.”

My head fell again, the intensity too much. Surprising me, he moved to the floor with me. Kneeling in front of me, he still towered above me. His hand finding my chin, he pulled it up.”Look at me. I promise to never forget the strength and courage you displayed in choosing to be mine. I promise to own you forever.”

The box sitting on the table went unnoticed until he reached for it. When he pulled my new adornment out I thought again this is the happiest day of my life. It was so beautiful. When he placed it around my neck the cold metal sent shivers through me. It was so heavy. He stood, and held his hand out to me. I took it and followed him to the mirror. The chain maille surrounded gorgeous gemstones that match my wedding ring perfectly. His eyebrow raised at me, and his lips in a slight grin, “would you like to say anything?”

I couldn’t speak. Looking at him through our reflection in the mirror, I was able to get out two words. “Forever Sir.”

We Were Arguing, I Was Wrong

But don’t tell anyone!

I have a vagina, which by definition makes me crazy sometimes. I don’t have a problem with admitting that fact. We were going back and forth in the truck tonight after dinner. Even my poor child asked us to stop fighting. (He doesn’t really know the difference between a fight, and a disagreement 🙂 ) That caused me to stop arguing, for the moment.

I knew that, he knew, that I wasn’t done. I wasn’t. After my son was in bed, and Jackson and I were hitting the night time routine, I started up again. I thought I was right. (Can someone tell him now that I am ALWAYS right?) Yet, when he finally got it through my thick skull, that I was wrong, I felt bad. I hate being wrong.

We were in bed, and I tried my hand at an apology. “I have no idea how you put up with me.”

“It’s a challenge.”

I smiled, “I’d say sorry, but then I wouldn’t be me, if I wasn’t challenging.”

He put his book on the night stand, “Never stop being you,” he said, turning to look at me.

“I won’t,” I said, moving to rest my head on his chest. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

I kissed his chest, and the rest, well I think you already know. . .




Today I Am Thankful for. . .

Here is my short list.

My son.

My man, my Dom, my lover, and my best friend in the whole wide world.

Orgasms, honestly, where would we all be without them?

My teeth, because without them I’d have a hard time pigging out today.

My parents for traveling with me, so the mother and I could continue our black friday tradition, another week of so excited I can barely contain myself.

My dear dear TBS superstation, for promising to play a Christmas story yet again this year, the days will fly fast.

Last, but not least, I am thankful for my future mother in law not making my life miserable. Apparently this new shiny ring has super powers!


Happy thanksgiving everyone!


He Left Me

I had finished loading the dishwasher, and continued washing the pots and pans from dinner. I thought Jackson was watching Batman with my baby boy, but he wasn’t. I felt his arms snake around me, and his lips found their way to my ear, making me grin.

“hello” his response came only in the sensation of my ear lobe, between his teeth. I moaned a little too loud considering the not too distant child.


I leaned back into him, as his right hand, splayed across my abs, moved lower, and lower. My heartbeat hastened from his touch, and finally his fingers met their destination, moving in small circles against my clitoris? I tried to be quiet, but it was torture. All too soon, his hands, and mouth were gone.

“Pick a plug for tonight,” he said walking away. I was excited immediately, getting to play during the week, and so unexpected. I finished the dishes, and continued on with my night, until I heard that occasional ring. OH No I thought.

I was right, OH NO!!. The emergency phone strikes yet again at the worst time possible. So instead of being used and wonderfully abused tonight. I am writing, before I pass out.

Decisions, Decisions

We’ve finally made some decisions about our upcoming nuptials. I say, we but really it was me. 🙂 Anywho. my biggest challenge so far was trying to find a way to incorporate my man of honor on my side, when it came to the colors. So the color scheme will be black and grey with orange and white as accents. I had considered pink and white as accents, but considering we are going for a fall wedding, I felt a rustic orange would be better, even though I am in Texas and everyone will jump at Longhorn accolades. UGH this seems like a good time to shout BOOMER SOONER! Yes, that was good.

We have settled on a wedding party. I will have a matron of honor, man of honor, and one bridesmaid, Jackson will have his best man and two groomsmen. My side will be dressed in grey, while his side will be in black.

My biggest concession so far is the location. We both wanted a vineyard wedding, but I was more for making it a true destination wedding, and flying across country. Jackson however, wanted stay in the state, so we will be heading back to hill country. That of course is providing I can find a venue. Which will be the hard part I am sure. I want a full weekend wedding. I want it fairly small, and I want the whole thing to be an amazing weekend getaway for our guests. Therefore I am going to have to try to find a bed and breakfast, big enough to accommodate all of our guests for the entire weekend, and just rent the whole thing out. I have my work cut out for me there.

Couple of things I’ve learned. I hate the idea of ribbons on cakes. It destroys the look of the cake before you even cut it. Should I care since you are about to cut it?

I hate tulle, but I love what tulle can do for a dress. This makes me hang my head

I am attracted to very revealing wedding dresses, that neither my father nor my future husband would approve of.

I am just as unorthodox when it comes to bridesmaid dresses because the one dress, I’d love to see them in, is actually a wedding dress. I’d have to change the color and, I am not in love with the flare. If I choose it though, I will have to have them made, so the flare could be changed no problem right? Here is a pic I think this would look amaing in a heather or slate grey for my girls.I love the neckline, I love how sexy it is, I love the sleeve length, I just love it!  Except for the tulle. I wonder if I cut the flare off all together and change the hemline if the resulting product would kill the formality of the dress, and make it look like a hookers dress… hmm

Ok I am shutting up for now.