That arrogant jerk. So what if he can make me cum? When your pet mate is multi-orgasmic, it's not exactly a difficult feat.

It barely takes his breath on the back of my neck, of course it won't be a challenge.

He won't tame me. He can't. The only thing that can tame me is my cunt, but he holds a lot of power over her. The way his strong hands stroke against me... It's not fair how readily she'll surrender me to him. Just because I submit doesn't mean I'm submissive.

I'm wild


like rain


I cannot be contained.

But just for you... I'll step into the cage and let you lock it. I'll let you pretend you can possess me.

It's a fun game, ne?

Living

When I was young, in response to the common sense lessons I doled out to the adults, I was often told that things didn't work the way we wanted them to, and that I didn't know that because I hadn't really lived yet.

They were correct. I've spent a little more than a third of my life as a pet sex slave, been sheltered by secret owner and family alike, and yet... in living a relatively sheltered life, I manage to be more free than any of the people I remember from school. I'm misfortunate(rather than unfortunate), but obstinate, with an apparently astounding drive to survive.

Many people would call me lucky; I have an apartment that's nice and just two shortcomings from being perfect, a wonderful, sexy mate who can make me blush and scream in pleasure at the same time, two intelligent cats that get along, a few very close friends who make up my family, and most recently, a job I love that sets me free from many of the difficulties of modern life. I won't need to worry about commuting, or taking time off, even on a moment's notice. It encourages my body's transformation into what I wish she would be, and for me to take better care of myself.

I get to live out my dream of professional pervert, and my income is dependent on what I want it to be.

Things aren't perfect, but they're good.

“The Meaning We Put Into Words: And I’m sorry if I haven’t written to you in a while. It’s just that life gets in the way of living. It’s just that my fingers were stuck together. It’s just that all the paper in the world caught fire.You’ll forgive me if I haven’t written in a while. It’s just that all the envelopes made love to dragonflies and now, we cannot bring them down. It’s just that time stopped ticking. It’s just that all the ink ran clear.My apologies if I haven’t written in a while. It’s just that words ran out of letters (these are the last in the bag). It’s just that language isn’t perfect. It’s just, me.”

- I Wrote This For You

Subhuman

I used to have a friend, with whom I would talk about the strange natures of people, especially men. We'd laugh, and be exasperated, and throw our hands up with the neverending question of "Why would they DO that!?" and the answer would always be the same.

"Because they're people"

That same phrase later got me in trouble with that friend, who asserted that I thought myself above everyone else, something better than human, another priest(ess) who had succumbed to the 'holier than thou' train of thinking.

I was... surprised to say the least. In my view, I had done nothing to assert myself higher than anyone else. In fact, I barely made eye contact with anyone, even her. To me, the phrase gave me something to aspire to. One day, I might even be a Person, and capable of mistakes that make others shake their heads and others laugh. Instead, I am Not a Person, and strive, strive to find the endearing qualities in myself, and the parts of my Self that are Me, and separate them from the parts that Were Me and the parts That Were Others. To me, being subhuman meant hiding as many of my flaws as I could, because People were able to make mistakes, and I could never be so haughty to think myself as good as anyone else. Being Less than a Person always meant that my mistakes were unforgivable, are unforgivable, and that anything, ANYTHING, I do wrong will be held against me forever, beliefs reinforced by my parents, my peers, their parents, and the school system. Other people can make mistakes, and have them be forgotten. Other people make mistakes and are teased about it. Some take it well, some don't.

I cannot yet be a person, so I cannot make mistakes.