“Every time you go pee today, I want you to write one letter of the word “slut” on your skin. Somewhere it won’t be seen by others, but that you’ll know it’s there, and every time you see it you’ll know you’re doing it for me, because you’re mine.”
Sometimes I start these blog posts with this wide story-arc in mind…I’m going to start here and talk about this, and it’s going to tie into Wicked Wednesday, or Sinful Sunday, or Masturbation Monday or the Kink of the Week, and then it’s going to go here and there and I’ll talk about this and that, and then I’ll finish with a flourish in this other post that I have in mind, coming full circle and tying everything together perfectly!
Some days, like Monday, I miss the boat entirely.
But then you get random titty pictures!
Okay, okay, it’s not so random. I mean the fact that V had written “Owned” on me way back in October of last year, and this other writing happened on my belly only weeks ago, is kind of random, but you can see how they fit together, right? And I’ve been wanting to get back to submitting boob shots for Hyacinth’s Boobday meme for awhile now… (Not familiar with Boobday? Boobday is “a weekly meme for us to honor breasts of all shapes and sizes belonging to all types of folks.” It’s a lovely space! Click the link and check it out…) So…not so random, really. I love my boob in that picture! And there are words on mah belly, which I meant to tie into the Writing on Skin prompt for the Kink of the Week, so, you know, it all comes together. Or would have if I’d made the Writing on Skin deadline. But that’s okay, I know
you’re all dying to know I’m dying to tell you what those words are all about.
Way back in October, when V wrote the word “Owned” on me, it was in fun. Sort of. Because I wasn’t really “owned” by him yet. I was well on my way to going there, but as he said last night in a text when I asked, “So? Where are we now?”, I’m much further along in that state now than I was then. (“We’re at a point where you do everything I want how I want it, when I want it and to whom I want it done,” was how he put it. That’s maybe overstating it a bit – I’m not that good a submissive, though I try! But the mental space is there, certainly.) And somehow, this image, with those words, epitomizes that state for me. I added the “V’s” to it myself, because it felt right. I’m not just a slut. I’m V’s slut.
I’m his submissive, I’m his lover, I’m his slave, I’m his kitty. I’m owned.