I increasingly believe, that the only rights I need, are that of life, of a collar fastened about my neck and of the pursuit of happiness through servitude.
If I could have my ideal life, it would be one of minimal comfort. Of servitude, domestic and otherwise, to a male who would treat me as nothing more than a object that might satisfy his desires. I would want to spend a generous amount of time, locked away, perhaps left to read, until such a time comes that I'm needed. I am his maid, his personal cook, his confidant and obedient helper, his slut and whore and his slave and toy.
