"Owned" - From the diary of slave Katinka

“Owned” was written for BDSMforyou.nl by slave Katinka.

Belonging to, Owner of, Property of, Owner of, Owned. Just a few of the terms and concepts I regularly read from slaves and subs. And for everyone they mean something different. I also call these “value words”. Words whose meaning is experienced differently by everyone. One Dom may have a different image of these terms than my D does. And the interpretation and the feeling attached to it will differ from sub to sub as well.

I am going to use the different terms interchangeably. I too have it in my Twitter bio that I am the property of my D. My D has it on her Fetlife profile that She is my Owner. And recently I changed the header of my Twitter profile to Owned! Simply because it feels good to be Hers and I am proud of it.

Permission

My D decides which clothes I buy, what I do with my body, that I have to eat healthily, lose a few kilos, whether I may go somewhere and whether certain things are wise to do.
And yes, of course things sometimes go wrong and I occasionally eat something less healthy, for example, but I always confess it honestly. My D is always kept informed and I am sometimes punished for it. For the rest, I will never betray Her trust. Because then a D/s relationship has no point.

I have a very strong will of my own, but I like surrendering to Her. Because She means well towards me. She has only good things in mind for me. Thanks to Her I have grown in who I am, who I want to be and where I want to be.

Property

This will raise a few eyebrows with many people: what do you mean, someone's property? You can't be someone's possession. According to the letter of the law, and the norm we know, perhaps not. But if you both choose it, it can work perfectly well. I find it a wonderful privilege. I still remember clearly how my D called me and instructed me to change my status on Fetlife to “property of Mrs Moriah” instead of “under protection”. And my D changed her status to “Owner of”. Goodness, how I cried; it felt like the ultimate form of acceptance. She accepted me as Her slave. For me this was just as special a moment as when She carved Her initials into my buttocks with a sharp knife. I am Hers, that is how it felt. And that is still how it feels.

Her protection

I can count on Her protection, Her care and Her watchful eye. She even watches over my primitive thoughts, which are not always based on reality. She understands this and always knows how to protect me from myself. I can trust Her and I no longer run away from my own insecurities. She takes on that confrontation with me.
I am very grateful that I can say everything that troubles me, even though it is often only thoughts I inflict on myself. Because my thoughts can break things and destroy them. In the past I would get stuck in negative thoughts and be unable to talk about them. As a result everything became unnecessarily bigger and out of proportion. I have learned from Her to talk at those moments anyway. We then have a good conversation, and afterwards I feel enormously relieved.

Sometimes, when my thoughts are a huge chaos and talking really isn't possible, I have to bare my bottom. Literally. I really need it then. One time the mental release comes faster than another. There are moments when my D says: “Even if the blood runs down your body, I will just keep going until you let go!” That is how it went last weekend too. At the start of the week my D had already noticed that I was completely stuck. And then I get hyper behaviour, which shows in a lot of talking and everything all jumbled together. Thoughts trip over each other and at night the nightmares follow one another. All of this comes from emotions that cannot come out because I block and am unable to talk about it. Stuck sadness, stuck thoughts. A chaos in my head.

Incident

That same weekend, something happened that shocked me and that I hadn't realised myself. My D had asked me to do something and instead of doing it, I stayed on my phone on social media for a bit longer. Suddenly She was standing next to me and pulled the phone out of my hands. I reacted immediately with: “Right, this is really going too far!” My D responded by pointing out that I am her possession and that this was not limited to the things I liked and enjoyed. She was of the opinion that if I thought this went too far, I might as well remove my “owned” header on Twitter, because apparently I had no idea what it meant. Her good right, but my thoughts immediately flew in all directions with “Oh, I have to leave!” An enormously intense moment. When I think back on it, the tears run down my cheeks again.

Of course She did not leave me alone in my sadness. She took me to Her and I had to promise Her to write a blog about what the words “property of” and “owned” mean to me exactly. After that She let the whole thing go and I went and did what I should have done. Fortunately my D is not someone who dwells on things. I try to do that more and more too, and although I am not yet as good at it as She is, I am getting better at it. When things happen I try to reflect on them and learn from them. Then it may be that we talk about it again, but that isn't always necessary. In any case, it is nice that it is possible.

Release

The day after, my D insisted that I go upstairs to Her playroom. I hesitated a little, even though I knew I needed it, because I didn't want to be a burden to Her. After all, I had not treated Her properly the day before, but She insisted.
Once in the playroom, my D laid out a whole regiment of whips. She started with floggers, which was nice, but after the floggers came paddles, single tails and canes. It got harder and more vicious all the time and, if possible, even harder. But my deeply buried sadness did not come out.

Her strokes were so hard that you could hear the whips whistling through the air and it really hurt like crazy. Of course She never lost Her attention for me while whipping, and between the fierce strokes we also laughed enormously together. We even did a dance or two. I was jumping in all directions, after all. And then came the moment She spoke to me with: “Even if the blood runs down your body, I will just keep going. Until you let go.”

Not much later I broke... My D noticed immediately and stopped whipping at once. She took me in Her arms and let me cry it out. At those moments I realise very clearly that I am Hers, my D whom I trust without safewords. My D, with whom I never know what She is going to do. I endure it physically, while I let my thoughts go more and more. It makes me very calm. She is my D, I am Hers. And sometimes I doubt whether I am doing it all right, whether I deserve “Owned”, but fortunately that is up to Her. And if it were not so, my D would say so and I trust in that.

Now, two days later, I still have peace in my head. Because of Her, the storm in my head has been calmed again. She is my peace, my balance and my anchor. She is my D...

my D

I am Yours

Vulnerable, serving

I can build on You

You and Your trust

in me, in my being

Grateful, serving

I am here for You

For my D

Slave Katinka