Fantasy

Sometimes I fantasise about Master emphasising his ownership of me more overtly. I'm not talking about an ownership ceremony or something; one does not throw a party after taking a stray pet in off the streets. No, it is much more matter-of-fact than that. I already have rules setting boundaries on my daily life; they remind me that I am not free, but they do not affect my interactions with others. But what if Master invited some friends round, and told me to take their coats and offer them drinks when they arrived? My behaviour would be very similar to that of many hosts and hostesses. The guests might arrive in rapid succession so I might still be in the middle of making teas and coffees for the first set when I must leave off to collect the coats and drink requests from the second set. I would of course try very hard to get them all right but this can be difficult when all the orders are similar and yet still different - milk or no milk, sugar or no sugar, decaf or regular.

I would of course offer sincere apologies to the guest who received something other than what they had asked for, and immediately make them a fresh drink, but in my fantasy this would not be sufficient. My behaviour, my successes and failures, no matter how large or small, reflect on my Master. I imagine being sent to the corner, left empty especially for occasions such as this. Standing with my hands on my head and back to the room, I flush with embarrassment and shame at my lapse - and yet am grateful that he cares enough to correct me immediately, and that he can do so without disrupting our guests' visit. We know that most of our friends are kinky, but not everyone wants their plans for a visit interrupted by the unpleasantness of witnessing an errant pet being chastised - this way Master can preserve our guests' comfort levels while emphasising to me that I need to take better care. Standing in the corner while everything else went on as normal, temporarily excluded due to my own lack of care and attention, I would feel very chastened.

I am only released in order to fetch the snacks I had prepared earlier, and am careful to offer them with due care and attention. Master might snap his fingers and point to the coffee table, then to a spot by his feet. Like an obedient pet, I would put the tray on the table and move to kneel at his feet. I imagine Master's fingers carding through my hair while he continues his conversation with two friends. I know my eyes would drift shut as I felt the bliss of our reconnection, know that I was forgiven and loved, that he was pleased with me.

Later I might be released from such restrictive service - not for my benefit, you understand, but for our guests who are my friends as well and so might be disappointed not to be able to chat with me at all. Master would be careful to ensure that our dynamic fit as smoothly as possible into the on-going social interactions, but I may still have to utter a hasty "excuse me please" to a friend and respond to his summons at least once in the course of an afternoon and evening.

Mostly, my fantasy stops here. This isn't about hot sex or hot punishment scenes, although I do fantasise about those as well. This fantasy is about my status as Master's pet being casually, incidentally mixed into our more 'normal' social interactions; not disrupting the flow of things, not taking centre stage, just being one of the myriad dynamics that ebb and flow when a group of people interact with each other.

Of course, the fantasy doesn't always stop there. The greatest display of Master's ownership of me, and of my obedience to him, might occur if these smaller, more incidental interactions led to questions. Why do you get to boss her about? A friend might ask. How is it that she jumps to fulfil your slightest whim? How far does your control go? How much power do you have over her?

There are many ways we might answer these, but the easiest might be a demonstration. If so, there are many things that Master might choose to do, all of which make me shiver with a heady mix of embarrassment, lust and adoration.

What if Master decided to show them the marks from my last whipping? Being partially exposed for that would possibly be worse than being entirely naked. And I would strive to keep my equilibrium while having to participate in the conversations - why I'd been punished, what I'd got, how many, how hard. What if the conversation led to other aspects of his control - such as over my cunt, my orgasms, my pleasure? I can imagine his fingers calmly spreading my labia apart, increasing my exposure, demonstrating my arousal - while I stood quietly with my hands clasped behind me, legs spread wide and hips thrust forward to offer him the best access. It is, after all, what an obedient pet would do, and my embarrassment would be immaterial, beyond his enjoyment of it.

What if they asked to touch me? I can not imagine whether he'd say yes or no. At this point no bare hand has touched my bare cunt for over nine months, except his. If he refused, kept me for himself, it would emphasise his ownership of me, that I am his possession - but so would giving them access, because either way the decision is about my body but out of my control.

This, then, is the essence of my fantasy, and is also my reality - decisions about my body, about whether my actions are acceptable or not, about the course of my life, are made by my Master. Gradually, as we continue this, I am increasingly *wanting* the things he has decided, whatever they may be. This suggests that my mind, while not under his direct control, is also receptive to his will and eager to submit to it, to bend, to be moulded into an attitude that pleases him. As is my heart, which yearns for him more and more every time we are apart.

My submission continues. His ownership continues. I surrender to his authority, and revel in my captivity.