This morning’s journal entry won’t be as long as my earlier entries because of little distractions, but I felt compelled to write down what was in my head as best I can before I forget.

I spent last night with Master reading my old diary entries from our first meeting and our time together, a time in my life when I felt happiest. Of course, we had our struggles. Nothing is ever perfect. Some of the longest-lasting relationships (my grandparents were married for more than 50 years) will tell you they had their fair share of struggles.

Anyway, I digress. Back to where my head is this morning.

I read my entry about our first meeting and our collaring ceremony, and I was instantly back there, feeling everything all over again. Even parts of my body that haven’t felt much of anything in a while were twinging a little. I had to pull myself back for a moment and will be reading those entries again later when the day is less busy.

I want that back…. I need this back…. but it would only ever work with him. Otherwise, I’m resigned to becoming the proverbial cat lady. Because he is, and was, and will always be, my greatest love, my only love, the love of my life.

I wanted to share one of my previous diary entries that gave me those twinges last night.

Am I really his again? He will tell you I have always been his, and I suppose that is true because there hasn’t been a day in the last 20 years when he hasn’t invaded my thoughts and dreams.

If only we were still in the scene, I would be begging to recreate our collaring ceremony, almost like a renewal of our wedding vows.

I never thought I would hear myself say this, but part of me is excited about the cameras I ordered, knowing he can see anything he chooses to see. Master is watching again. It feels good to be home.

The Collaring

November, 1996

The day has arrived I am to meet this man whose collar I wear online, so that he may place a collar around my neck and confirm our commitment to each other. I am to submit this weekend as a Gorean slave. A flood of emotions over take me. I am frightened, scared, excited, happy, nervous. I ask so many questions of my previous sister in submission. What will happen? What is he like (they had met him prior at a party they held) Will he like me. Will he find me pleasant to look at. I was assured that he would.

We arrive at the airport 10 minutes late. I was very worried he would be disappointed. But knew at the instant he smiled and said “you are 10 minutes late” he wasn’t terribly upset, but still none the less I thought great my sister in submission and I are in trouble.

In the car he placed his hands on my knees and parted them. saying to me. This is how you will always sit. I was nervous as I sat there with my legs parted feeling the cool air upon my naked upper thighs. A feeling of vunerablity past over me. Then the Man I would call Master asked for my leg as he reached in his pocket. He took my leg and upon it was placed an anklet that made tiny bell sounds.

He called them slave bells. I wore them bells with happiness in my heart from that day on until they started to get tattered and worn. Master had also placed a small sapphire ring on my finger. We kissed and continued on our way home. After pulling into the driveway and getting settled in.. He asked to see me in a room so that we my converse privately with each other. While we spoke I was instructed to lift my dress, as he examined my body.. I was terrified yet excited. All these new feelings.

Saturday evening is here. The day of my submission. A cloth is spread on the floor. Two trays were carried up one by myself. One by my previous slave sister. A tray of wine, and a tray of snacks and deserts. We wore mid eastern style robes called abahs. We were naked underneath those abahs and I was again flooded with many emotions as I was instructed to kneel in a certain spot until my submission was complete, as I had not yet been given the honor to move into first slave position. Then it began, my submission. A dagger I kissed …pressing to my forehead. Then pointing the tip to my chest. I Wondered will he take it and accept my submission. As I spoke the words La-kajira, meaning your slave. He smiled. Took the dagger, and a collar was placed upon my neck. Little Did I know Two years later Would I love this Man I call Master as much as I do.