Some Taken In Hand posters react strongly against the idea of being owned: “He doesn't own me....he is the head of the household,” said Lisa. For me, it has taken some accepting, but Gary does indeed own me. That does not make him a tyrant, but it does mean pleasing him. But bear in mind that my comfort, needs and desires come almost before his demands.
For example, while he may demand a sexy piece of clothing, I can tell him what my needs are and he will relent. But if I am told “no panties,” there is no alternative.
I happen to take comfort in his ownership of me. The care and attention he provides equals only to his affection. I suppose it's partly in your mindset of what ownership means. While Gary could pick all the clothes in the world, if I nix it, it doesn't happen. And if I tried on everything he wanted, but I was excited for one thing entirely different, I'd get it, because he wants me happy and he spoils me. So when he wants a push up bra because it's Wednesday, no problem. Or as he is so fond of saying, “it doesn't belong to you anyway, your breasts belong to me.”
But to please Gary I dress each year on my birthday as a prostitute and we go out on the town. Now I am the slut that he owns. And I can't even begin to explain how I feed off his excitement. It works both ways.
I do just about anything to please him. And it does not interfere with any independence I may have. All dignity is intact, in fact reinforced. If he picked out my clothes would I wear them? Damn straight I would. And quite frankly, there is a hint of pride in being owned and loved so well...