One of the earlier fantasy scenarios I remember Miss Lois picturing to me was one in which I was tied to a chair or something… She held my phone and asked me for my pin number… or else…
In my head, fantasy me’s response would be to panic… If she would get access to my phone she could take pictures and post them on my social media and all my friends would see. I couldn’t give her my pin; I wouldn’t be able to take the social backlash. But then… on the other hand… Would she torture me if I didn’t give it to her? Fantasy me glanced at her face. She would torture me for as long as necessary until she got my pin. If she was going to get it no matter what, maybe it’d be better if I just gave her my pin now?
I told Miss Lois that fantasy me would give her the pin number of my phone.
This response pretty much killed the scenario; torture wasn’t necessary and I’d been an obedient slave so… Our conversation went in another direction then.
Another scenario Miss Lois pictured to me was the idea of a slave living with her. It meant that the slave had also given her access to all of her social media and bank accounts. I thought she was crazy. How could I ever allow anyone to read my messages with friends? It would be a breach of privacy. What if she’d see a message in which I said something embarrassing? Or what if she’d dislike my behaviour, somehow?
But the idea stuck in my mind. So often, Miss Lois only had to plant a seed (raise an idea) and within days or weeks, it surfaced in my desire. As my slave training progressed, I wanted to give Miss Lois more power. What if I gave her access?
I followed a line of what-if thoughts. What if she were taking advantage of me? What if she used my social media for bad things? What if…
The above reasoning didn’t make much sense. I trusted her after all. I knew who she was. I must have been scared of giving her this power as it felt like submitting entirely or perhaps truly admitting my identity as a slave. Deep down, I knew I wanted to give her the access but I was afraid. I couldn’t find a way to feel at peace, and I think that’s why Miss Lois slowly started bringing it up again and made it a command, rather than a choice.
This started with my Fetlife profile (my old one, which is different from MLSlavePuppet) and my collarspace profile. She simply told me to give her the password and my heart beat in my chest as my mind ran through the recent messages I might have exchanged with people. Did I have to log into my account to delete some before Miss Lois could see them?
It felt like the time was ticking. She’d told me to do something and I had to comply. I gave her the passwords and waited. Would she actually read my messages? Was there something in there I felt ashamed of? Something that I didn’t want her to know? It was too late now. Miss Lois could see everything. It was an exciting and scary thought at the same time.
After she had access, I barely noticed that she did. In the beginning, messages that I hadn’t yet read on CollarSpace appeared as having been read so I knew that she had read them. I didn’t really check if she’d sent any messages to other people. I felt like if there had been something or someone important she messaged, she would tell me.
The fact that she had access made me wonder how much she read and how often she checked in to see what I did on the account. To be honest, I didn’t use the accounts all that much. I had Miss Lois, why would I be looking for someone else? I did have contact with a girl for a while but she eventually disappeared on me and stopped replying, and in response, I sent her a few messages to ask why and stuff like that.
Then Miss Lois messaged me. She pointed out that I’d sent this girl some desperate messages in which I asked that she responded to me. I felt embarrassed and ashamed. My face felt hot. Miss Lois had taught me better than that… right? I was supposed to be a proud slave, not one that begged for someone’s ‘attention,’ especially not at someone who didn’t even deserve it.
Still, I had already deleted the girl from my contacts and blocked her before Miss Lois brought it up.
Miss Lois’ message to me about it was a clear reminder that she was watching and reading the messages I wrote. Apart from the shame, it made me feel good. It was so easy to forget that Miss Lois monitored things until she mentioned it. I liked that she had this control and access in my life.
I became more open to the idea of giving her access to my social media; I even started craving it. She wanted to learn how my mind worked and I wanted to facilitate that so at some point, I suggested that I could share my google calendar with her so she’d know exactly what I was up to on a daily basis (I keep track of what I’m doing pretty well in there).
She emphasised that this would give her unprecedented access to my life and asked if I was sure. I was sure. I wanted to let her in.
At the same time, I still didn’t feel comfortable sharing my Facebook and Whatsapp with her. I was very honest with her though. We had conversations on all kinds of topics and I felt like there was nothing more I could give her insight on, in regards to me.
I suggested I could ask my best friend to give her more insight into me.
Me: “Because I suppose my own perception can’t be trusted.”
Miss Lois: “Haha, no, absolutely not.”
She liked the idea but said that for now, it would instead be very beneficial to her understanding of my interactions if she had access to my email or social media accounts. (Side note: I use Whatsapp, Facebook, and Snapchat to message people. Social media accounts like Twitter and Instagram are open for the world to see. However, you can’t give access to Snapchat or Whatsapp because it requires phone numbers, so all that remained was Facebook.)
I still felt unsure about it… I really wanted to please her but isn’t giving up access to your accounts dangerous?
On the other hand, I’d been talking to her for over a year now. She’d always kept her word and had never lied to me or done anything she said she wouldn’t. She had shown that she cared about me and looked out for me. She’d shown me that she could be trusted. All I had to do was trust her.
I decided to give her access to my Facebook account. It felt scary… nerve-wracking, but not because I was afraid she’d do something weird with my account. I was nervous, of course, about her reading my messages. Yet at the same time, it felt like a relief to have given her this access. I had wanted to for a long time and now I finally had.
It took her just a few minutes to log in. She said she could now read every message on there (I’m sure she said that on purpose), and I remarked that I was aware as Facebook had sent me a notification of the login, lol. Bless security nowadays.
She told me to try and make myself cum while she browsed through my Facebook…
She started mentioning some things about the conversations I’d had with people but concluded that our conversations had been far more interesting. (I could have told her that haha).
I was struggling to come. I was still on the antidepressants that stopped me from orgasming…
She said that she wanted me to cum for her or suffer trying. (She did mention that she knew it wasn’t my fault, but that it was, therefore, an opportunity to either overcome my body or suffer for her.)
She read some of my other messages to my friends, I think? I honestly don’t really know what she looked at. But once she’d seen it, she’d seen it and didn’t appear to have much of an interest in them. She always kept access and I liked that she had, but I don’t think she really used it after the first few times (if she had, I would’ve received another notification, ha!)
When I got a Fitbit for Christmas, she told me to give her access to that account, which I happily did. I was going to suggest it too, but she beat me to it.
She asked me what made me think of suggesting it, and I had to admit that it was because it would give her more information and therefore control and that I liked the idea of that.
She remarked that it’d taken me a long time to give her access to my Facebook account.
Yes… she was gaining more control quickly. I was becoming more willing by the day.
Miss Lois: “You do realise that over time
I will get anything from you I ask for.”
I knew… but I wasn’t quite ready to admit it entirely. I did in a way though. I knew. It was kind of like waiting for the inevitable, while also wanting it to happen immediately.
I wanted to serve her. I wanted to help her train me. I wanted to give her everything she needed. I wanted to make her happy. It made me happy. It made me feel at peace.
It was okay because I could trust her. It was safe for me to feel this way and to embrace it.
However, by this point, I still hadn’t given her access to my Gmail account. It had been the last thing I’d kept to myself, as I felt like there were some embarrassing things on there.
I tried to talk to her about this decision but she didn’t want to hear it. She said that the next time she wanted to hear about it was when I’d give her my password.
I ended up giving it to her the next day.
Again, it felt like a relief. Or like things were finally right, somehow. To be honest, my Gmail is very boring in daily use. I don’t think it would have given her any new insights. But I guess it was about giving her the final access.
I liked that she could more or less watch over my shoulder. I liked that my privacy, in a way, disappeared a little. I liked that there couldn’t be any secrets this way. I liked giving her control.
Looking back to the first time she sketched this idea for me, I never thought I’d end up wanting to give her access, less so even like it. But look how far I’ve come. I’m such a willing slave now! Of course, since she stopped training me, I’m the only one with access now. But maybe in the future, a special Mistress will get access. I wouldn’t want it to be any other way. Giving access is part of being a slave, for me.