The Passport Photo

I recently had to get my passport, since my Master and I will be traveling abroad this summer. I found the experience of getting my passport photo done relevant to my relationship. Because I had to take my collar off for the picture. There are a lot of requirements for passport photos under the new guidelines and while I think that some of the rules are overkill I can understand their purpose.  

The actual act of having to take my collar off and sit down on the counter to have my picture taken while not smiling was slightly unnerving for me.  I almost felt like I was being processed into part of the system where everyone has to look and be the same. In a way, that feeling was correct. I also felt like I was somehow betraying my Master and taking my collar off. 

 My Master was not with me when I was doing this, because he was at work. I did text him right away to tell him that I removed my collar for the picture. I didn’t think I would be in trouble due to the circumstances but I could see myself being in trouble if I tried to hide it from him. In the end, I didn’t betray my Master. I obeyed him by getting my passport stuff done and I got to put my collar back on as soon as they were done snapping the picture.

-emma

Ponytails

Whenever my Master and I go to an outdoor event, my hair is pulled back in a pony tail. For me it has been a functional thing, because my hair blowing in my face is counterproductive to whatever is I am outside doing.

My Master also sees a pony tail as functional. When we are festivals or things of that nature, I tend to get sidetracked and wander. My Master will reach out and pull my pony tail if I get too far ahead. Pulling my ponytail makes me stop and refocus myself on him. 

Pulling my hair like that is an easy and non-intrusive way for him to remind me of my place without making a scene in public or in front of family. He doesn’t pull my hair hard. He pulls it just enough to get my attention.

-emma

On being thin

I am a thin woman, I have small breasts, and I only stand 5’3” tall. What does that mean? I get to be the verbal punching bag for overweight women who are jealous, insecure, or any number of other things. I have always been small. I have never been overweight, but like any woman in the world I have had days where I felt fat and days when I felt too skinny. 

I do not eat what I want, when I want. I have an eating schedule and a very restrictive diet. I can’t go off my diet even for a day because if I do it will make me physically sick. My body simply cannot handle the change and the change will mess up my blood sugar. I am hypoglycemic if I eat too many carbohydrates during a meal or if I don’t have my snacks on time. This causes me to get a severe headache and I will have difficulty speaking.  

I would love to be able to eat what I want. That would be amazing to me. I would love to have a donut with chocolate icing for breakfast and a cheeseburger with fries for dinner, but I can’t do that. I would love to be able to have the desserts I make on the holidays instead of just looking at them, but I can’t do that.

 I absolutely hate it when someone who is overweight comes up to me and tells me I need to eat a sandwich.  I am on a restrictive diet which means I can’t do that. I am not going to sacrifice my health because someone thinks I need to carry few more pounds.  If they even took a moment to understand what my life was like with my health issues then maybe they would understand, but I doubt it.

Moving on I am not exceptionally curvy. I do carry most of my weight on my hips and legs but still I am lacking. I have been told directly by a number of overweight women that I have the body of a 12 year old boy or that I am not a real woman. I happen to find this rather insulting and I do have feelings. I do worry about how my body looks just like every other woman on the planet.

Let me take a moment to clear some things up, I am a woman because I was born a female. It has nothing to do with my bra size, the size of my ass, how much I weigh, the length of my hair, whether or not I’ve ever had a baby belly, and etc.  It doesn’t matter if I am thin, average, overweight, or whatever. I am still a woman.

People who say, they can insult me because of my size because they are overweight and get picked on by people who are not me, need to simply grow up.  It is immature and belittling other people to make you feel better says a lot about your character or lack of character. I don’t make fun of anyone’s size. I don’t tell overweight people to lay off the donuts or anything like that. I don’t question whether or not they are a real woman, nor do I attempt to make the very thought of being with them in a sexual manner an act of pedophilia. 

I respect overweight people therefore I do not make fun of their body type. I would appreciate the same respect.

-emma

An Overview of my Early Training with my former Master

One thing I get asked a lot is what my early training was like with my former Master, because as my Master often says. I was pretty well trained when he got me. He just had to put on some finishing touches, so to speak. Let me preface this by saying I do not recommend anyone treat their slave or anyone else in their life the way I was treated. I do not condone violence in anyway, but through violence is how I developed. 

I reason why I have always skirted around this question is because it was and still is difficult for me to form into words.  I don’t know the best way to describe that time in my life, so I will do my best to make sense. I suppose I should start by saying I was young when I went to be with my former Master. I was underage and he was in his 40s. He had been a bachelor most of his life and he had very specific ideas of what he wanted, how he wanted it, and etc. I had to learn to fit inside that box or face the consequences.

He expected me to do as I was told, be quite, keep the house spotless, never get ill, never mess up, and etc. If I failed at any one of those, I would get punished. I would get beaten with closed fists, kicked, slapped, and so on over anything he saw as my fault. If I really made him angry he would lock me away for a time.

My desire to please and to stop this from happening was somewhat futile. He would look for reasons to punish me. He liked hitting me and it aroused him. He didn’t want to hit me because he was in charge or because he could. He wanted a reason and something to point to as the reason why this was happening.  He wanted me to hate it and he wanted me to feel bad about whatever it was I did and feel deserving of that sort of treatment. I learnt to pay very close attention to everything I did and my appearance. I didn’t want him to find a reason to punish me but oftentimes I found myself dealing with situations outside of my experience so on a first try if I failed. I was punished.

We did not have open communication in the relationship. I wasn’t allowed to speak to him in less spoken to and I spoke in the third person.  It was difficult for me because I felt like I wasn’t able to let him know how I felt about anything and it created a no compromise situation. My mental state, health, and generalized well-being were not taken into account with any of his decisions. It was simply about what he wanted with a disregard for anyone else.  The purpose this served for me is I learnt in a relatively short time that my own personal thoughts and opinions did not matter. What mattered was how he felt.

I may or may not go into more details with this in the future. My concern with talking about this openly is someone will decide it is a good way to train a slave and start beating their slave. I can honestly say I do not believe anyone deserves to be treated the way I was treated regardless of the perceived benefits of doing so. This is also a very difficult subject for me to speak about.

-emma