“How is it possible for one to own the stars?” [said the Little Prince.]
“To whom do they belong?” the businessman retorted, peevishly.
“I don’t know. To nobody.”
“Then they belong to me, because I was the first person to think of it.”
“I myself own a flower,” [said the Little Prince] as he continued his conversation with the businessman, “which I water every day. I own three volcanoes, which I clean out every week (for I also clean out the one that is extinct; one never knows). It is of some use to my volcanoes, and it is of some use to my flower, that I own them. But you are of no use to the stars . . .”
This is what I believe ownership is about.
It’s funny, but some humans think of ownership of other people the same way as the businessman (and I speak here in context of a consensual D/s or M/s relationship).
Nobody thought of owning this girl first? She’s yours. Nobody claimed this submissive? Write her name on a piece of paper, put it in a box and lock the box. She’s yours. You “own” her now, because you said so, and your dominant aura overwhelms her (even if it’s strictly one or two messages you’ve sent to her inbox). And now it’s on to claim the next one. That IS how it works, no?
But perhaps it’s simpler than that.
Do you wish to own them? Fine. Answer this then: What use are you to your submissive? Slapping her around is one thing, but what value do you provide to her? A rosy warmed bottom is lovely, but does she find it valuable? If so, wonderful. If not, what is your true value to her? After all, you wouldn’t take on someone who had no use to you, would you?
My master owns me. Not by virtue of some code or paperwork. Because he supports me in my life ambitions, as well as takes care of me in the bedroom. Because he cheers me on, provides me that simple reassurance. But more than that he keeps me steady and tells me what I need to hear when nobody else will tell me.
He owns me, yes, but more than that, he protects his property. I feel safe, every day, because (among other things) of him. With his actions, with his way of living. He protects what he owns, because he values it. It’s easy to say you value something, but actually protecting that something is another matter. Outside of the bedroom, and inside of it.