The reason I wouldn't tell Betty about

Being owned fulfills me, it makes me happy. It makes me feel liberated of myself, and of my life. It makes me feel natural, content, and like I am truly me. But there's one other reason I am made for this, one thats a little disturbing: I would be unsafe without it.

I am made to be used. I invite it, explicitly and through my behaviour. And before I met Master, I got exactly what I was asking for. No control, no boundaries. Anything. Anyone's. Show me something dirty, tell me something seductive, touch me, grab me, hurt me, and I lose my limits, become open, malleable, thirsty... a slave to my own cunt.

But we all need a measure of control. Where would I be now if allowed my freedom? Would I be dead? I am sure I would have at least come close. Belonging to someone protects me. It seems scary that it should be necessary that I am owned to have a degree of control, but I have to be honest about it. I have never had much of a care to look after myself, except for someone else.

When Betty found out I was his slave she was worried for my safety. I knew she would be even more afraid if I told her that I was more at risk without him. Master gives me boundaries, and keeps me safe. And it feels good, to be looked after with limits, rules and discipline, as well as with warmth and affection, like a parent looks after a child.