the meaning of home

I’m home now, as in Amanda’s place. I need now to distinguish “homes,” given that one surprise of my week with Master M is how I’ve come to adopt his mansion as a home too. I may have to find a way of designating each place as such — perhaps simply “home” and the “mansion,” with the latter simply understood as my home away from home. The mansion felt comfortable for me this time as a place where I belonged.

There are interesting connotations in referring to “Amanda’s Place” and “McKenna’s Place” — the sense that in these two homes there is not only a place for me to be but also that here “I am put in my place,” that these are worlds in which I am kept.

Submissive that I am, those thoughts I take as positive, and they warm me.


Maybe it’s a submissive thing (it certainly is for me) that belonging is so important and has a deeper meaning than for most people.

The experiences of being dominated — the events and practices and paraphernalia of my willful degradation — in a way are less important than my sense of being owned and kept — the context of belonging. For better or worse, I will do anything for anyone if I feel, within them, I have a place of belonging.

Belonging is, of course, more than a physical place, though the building in which my belonging happens is perhaps a symbol of the deeper reality of my “home within my dominant.” I have a home in Amanda’s being — and while this house is not that itself, it has become a symbol of her and of me in her.

This last visit with Master M, as I’ve said, felt more like home than ever before. The mansion with its vast rooms and soaring ceilings is not what I would consider as a “cozy,” but it now feels like proper place for me — it is inside me now as a physical space, just as Master M is inside me physically and sexually. As he commands me and my body, so does the mansion dominate me and my body. Something like that.


There is in all of this a wonderful submissive feeling — that of being contained. I sometimes write about my occasional longing to be caged. I know that sounds odd to most. Whereas most people think of being caged as an imprisonment, for me it’s a reassuring comfort. A cage provides structure and boundaries and clarity to my life. In a cage, there is nothing for me to do except simply to be.

“Amanda’s Place” and “McKenna’s Place” are not places for my incarceration, but quite the contrary, they are comforting structures — cages of belonging — “relationship homes” in which I am free to be exactly what I am.

2 thoughts on “the meaning of home

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s