I love to be leashed when He holds the other end or attaches
it to something. I would never even dream of taking it off without permission
so the fact that only a clip holds it to me doesnâ??t register in my mind. It
might as well be an unbreakable padlock. I feel owned, protectedâ?¦ My place is
undeniable. My status unforgettable.

The other day Master and I were talking on AIM while He was
at work and I was home getting ready for work. For some reason, we always get
into these â??deepâ? discussions just before I go to work and often they donâ??t get
finished. This day, though, we discussed a number of ideas He has. Ideas Iâ??d
fallen in love with a long time ago and had long since given up ever having.
Which was perfectly okay because they were also ideas I was a little scared of.

Thereâ??s not a whole lot of routine or ritual in our
relationship. It often leaves me feeling like a pretend slave because Iâ??m
generally free to do whatever I want so long as itâ??s not against the rules and
I make sure thereâ??s nothing He wants me to be doing at that particular point in
time. Of course, if I want to do something that requires me being out of the
room Heâ??s in, I have to ask permission, but even thatâ??s no big deal because I
can usually find something else to occupy my mind if He says no. Usually
something slightly more productive than whatever I wanted to do.

Masterâ??s decided He wants to keep me chained up during the
day when thereâ??s nothing more pressing to be done that requires me to have the freedom
of movement. He asked me how I felt about that and I sort of faltered. How do I
feel about being chained? Boy is that a loaded question.

Something Iâ??ve never experienced, really, is being locked up
in a way that I canâ??t escape outside of a scene. A while back, Master would
lock my ankle, by way of detached ankle cuffs from a set of shackles we bought,
to the coffee table while we watched television together. The key to the cuffs
was always within reach and it eventually became more hassle than it was worth.
I have always had a rather overactive bladder and if He wanted something to
drink or something to snack on Iâ??d have to unlock myself and then relock myself
in, and the process of getting comfortable made a ton of noise what with the
rattling chains and all. It really destroyed the point of me being locked in at
all, being able to let myself out whenever I wanted. So that eventually went
away.

Caged? Never. Chained to something and made to sit quietly
and patiently with nothing to do but stare at the walls? Nope. And I seriously
miss that tiny piece of being â??leashedâ?, even if it was me who always did the
leashing.

I love to be leashed when He holds the other end or attaches
it to something. I would never even dream of taking it off without permission
so the fact that only a clip holds it to me doesnâ??t register in my mind. It
might as well be an unbreakable padlock. I feel owned, protectedâ?¦ My place is
undeniable. My status unforgettable.

At the same time, I find myself growing bored with the
monotony of staring at the walls. This brings up all sorts of feelings of guilt
and shame. Here I sit, doing my Masterâ??s bidding, and Iâ??m bored? Shouldnâ??t I be
finding quiet ways of occupying my mind? Going over my recent service, thinking
about my slavery, trying to figure out what Iâ??m supposed to be learning from
this experience?

I fear it. I am afraid of what it means, me sitting there,
chained to the floor or where ever and just waiting. Patiently. Quietly. With
nothing to do but sit. And think. And wonder. And guess. And hope. Being
property is one thing. Being â??put awayâ? like a toy? Whole different show. One Iâ??ve
never been to.

We also talked about sleeping me chained to the floor, locking
me in place while weâ??re watching TV or puttering around on the computer and
making me wear various implements of torture (plug, clamps, etc.) when we go
walking or hiking. Different types of routine to drive home what I am. Maybe dull
my sharp tongue a bit.

Iâ??m scared. And completely excited. I canâ??t wait till He
decides where Heâ??s going to put the slave-rings. And at the same time, I hope
it was just more idle chatter. The suspense in this house is enough to kill an
adrenaline junky!