Nyah, nyah, nyah.Nyah, nyah, nyah." Although only a few strangers saw me that way. More on that later. My entire appearance is a constant symbolic reminder of the fact that he has done something to me, put his stamp of ownership on me, and that I like--want--to be owned this way. I would call it a kind of inverted (reverse? involuted?) "pride of ownership", but it is not a pride that I can yet show comfortably in public. I would be embar- rassed; but even that potential public embarrassment is a gift, a symbolic measure of what I will do for him. I guess that is what he meant when he asked for my embarrassment as a gift. I think too much about this stuff. I can barely go into public as it is, and not at all in these chains. Again, why should you be embarrassed, you say? I think it's because I know what's going on, why I look the way I do, even though people on the outside wouldn't know. Or it could be because I'm from Indiana, where they secretly don't even approve of natural blondes. And I nearly look like an albino. Why should I even care if someone else knew? The idea of other people--people I don't know--reacting to the revelation that I am J's willing slave is somehow exciting; I'll admit that much. But if anyone I actually knew found out it would be awful. |