We did not participate in BDSM casually. To my partner and me at the time, it was our lifestyle and we lived our lives as such. He was my Master and I was his slave. I wore a slave collar on my neck 24/7 to show his ownership over me and I obeyed his every command. I called him Master but in public I shortened his formal title to “M”. I attempted to keep our lifestyle somewhat discreet outside of our home but my Master frequently enjoyed demonstrating his control over me in public which always made me feel ashamed or degraded in some way.

The locked metal collar that I wore 24/7 was sometimes a tip off to strangers as to what kind of relationship my Master “M” and I had. Sometimes in public he would grab my collar and forcefully pull me around with it much like he would a dog in training just because he enjoyed seeing how strangers would react. He basked in the feeling that he had all control over me and that I would do whatever he wished regardless of how it made me feel. I was his slave after all, and he taught me that a good slave does what their Master commands under any circumstance. And I was prepared to do exactly that. Although the thought of following his every wish terrified me, it scared me much less than disobeying his commands out of fear of a severe punishment or reprimand that was sure to come should I transgress.

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My 24/7 slave collar with a fancy pendant attached.

But something changed in me eventually. After years of what I now see as abuse, I started to take into account how the strangers that were subject to my Master’s treatment of me were reacting. They were shocked and astonished. It wasn’t only strangers that were shocked but also our long time friends who had seen more than most strangers could imagine. They started to make comments to my Master that upset him. They did not think our relationship was healthy and some stopped coming around us. And I didn’t blame them. Their absence helped me to realize that my Master’s and my relationship was not healthy.

The little seed of doubt had been planted in me long before I started to notice how other people were reacting to my Master’s and my relationship. But I never trusted myself enough to nourish that seed and allow it to grow. I did not listen to many warnings that various concerned people threw my way. I continued to be the good slave that my Master wanted me to be and ignored how horrible I felt inside. And I now know that this is an unhealthy codependent behavior. Codependency was something I learned as child growing up in an environment filled with drugs, alcohol and abuse. I was simply reverting back to what had been ingrained in me since a young age and it was more than difficult for me to stop. I needed help but I did not know how to pursue it, especially while under my Master’s control.

I eventually began to see a therapist who instantly pinpointed my codependent behaviors. I was honest with my therapist and told her about ho my Master’s and my relationship was ran. He was in control of everything and I had no say. I was surprised that he allowed me to go to therapy but I told my therapist if he told me to stop that I would obey. If I did not, there would be repercussions that I wanted nothing to do with. She was concerned and asked me why I wanted to be with such a man. And at that moment I realized that I no longer felt like I had a choice with my Master. I did not feel that I could simply leave him. I was terrified that he would either kill me or ruin my life in some way. And I was shocked that our relationship had gotten to that point but I did not know what to do about it. My therapist was kind enough to suggest a few ways that I could begin my exit from the relationship but at that time my Master demanded I stop therapy and so I heeded his wishes.

I held onto my seed of doubt but it took a catastrophe that was far beyond my control to end the abusive relationship. M was my Master and I can honestly say that it was he who officially ended our relationship. I am unsure if I would have ever mustered the courage to leave him despite all of the doubt that I had growing inside of me. My slavery was my identity. I had forgotten all other sides of myself and did not believe that I could find them again. M had done a good job beating the true me into oblivion and obscurity. But M also blessed me when he let me go. That was when I was forced to find those parts of me that seemed to be lost. I found that they were not lost but just hidden and to this day I still find parts of myself that had vanished under M’s control.