“I want it to say something about obeying.”

“Well, obviously.”

I smiled up at you.  “T’s gonna hate it.”

“He’ll get over it.”

“You’d think he’d be used to it by now.”  I remarked as I flipped a page in the magazine.  “Here it is! This is what I want to wear.”

I pointed to a vampy purple and black dress and you turned your nose up at me.

“Something white.”

“But…”

“We’re getting married, Rayne.  Something white.”

I heaved a weighty sigh and you laughed.  “It’s supposed to be my day, you know.”

“I still own your ass.”

I smirked and flipped another page.  “How ’bout this?”

“Oh, I like that.”

It was white with baby blue trim.  Girly beyond belief.  Not something I would normally wear, but that’s true of any dress, girly or otherwise.

The day came and went and we never did order that dress.  But I wasn’t bothered.  Money was tight and the important thing was that I now legally belonged to you.

Everything that could go wrong, did.  No one could agree on a day.  We couldn’t afford the perfect dress.  Or any venue other than the store.

Our reception was a potluck dinner.

Our witnesses were mostly strangers.

The best presents we received came from people we didn’t even know.

But here we are.  Seven years later.  Still loving each other just as fiercely as the day we took our vows.

I love you exceedingly more than I did on that day, Master.  I’m not sure how it’s possible.  But it’s true.

Happy anniversary, my love.

<3
~Your pig whore