Five Interesting Toys.

• My first of five interesting toys.
• My second of five interesting toys.
• My third of five interesting toys.
• My fourth of five interesting toys.
• My fifth of five interesting toys.

I believe, without even knowing it myself, that I have left my favourite of this five part series for last.  I generally am not a steel kind of slave, I prefer softer materials such as rope or leather but for whatever reason, the minute Master placed the heavy metal around my wrists I swooned.  There is something about the closure of these shackles which makes me feel completely owned, truly a possession.  Unlike other cuffs, these do not have keys or locks, they screw into place and once they are on I have no means of removing them unless Master helps. And for whatever reason, I like that feeling of confinement, of helplessness.

When Master and I were first looking at these lovely silvery items I remember thinking that I would never be able to wear them for any length of time solely based on their weight.  Like so many times before, I was wrong yet again.  In fact I wore them for an entire evening, from approximately 9pm until 4am and I adored every single second of it.  In fact had it not been that I needed to shower, I am certain they would have stayed on while I slept and the mere thought of being in irons all night makes me squirmy.  The idea of being bound for extended periods of time has often left a rather unsettled feeling inside of me, except when I donne those two manacles.  Something happens inside of me when the steel is placed around my small wrists.  Something transpires dee within my core and I find that everything I once thought, everything I once believed no longer exists.  No, when those pretty bindings clank against my skin I feel that all too familiar and greatly appreciated high, that float like sensation where the "me" that I have known all my life disappears and an alternate "me" surfaces.

Everything about me changes. My posture becomes far more poised. My voice takes a slightly higher pitch. My entire demeanor is softer, more flexible and the word "no" simply disappears from my vocabulary.  For reasons unbeknownst to me, when my wrists are adorned with the heavy steel I suddenly become not only aware of my slavery but much more comfortable with it, embracing my desire to serve and obey without hesitation, without any inner conflict. It is almost as though when I am placed in those bindings I am giving myself permission to submit and ironically it is when I am bound that I truly feel free.

~His

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