Soooo...Why Am I Seven?

I know J. doesn't believe it, but the little girl thing really does come and go. I'm not ALWAYS little. Really. I swear. No, seriously.

I just kind of can't get rid of it lately for some reason. I'm the perpetual seven-year-old. *Pouts*

Lucky for me, B. and J. think it's kind of cute.

I keep fantasizing about being tied up. But, no, not for kinky sex. (OMG, write it down. Slave-girl's not fantasizing about kinky sex!!!!!!!!!!) I just want to be tied up between the two of them, securely, but comfortably, so I can lie that way for a long time without whining that I can't feel my arms anymore or whatever. Then, I just want to be snuggled and petted and kissed and talked to. Kinky sex, of course, is optional. :D

B. mentioned tying me up and spoon-feeding me and talking to me like a little girl again, like they did one night. Well, J.'s the one who fed me, but they both talked to me like I was little. Yeah, that should not have made me as happy as it did.

I'm not sure why, when I'm feeling insecure, being seven makes me feel safer and more secure, but it does. Master and Mistress have the only seven-year-old service pet on the planet. I really do live to please them, even if I do sort of have a few bumps along the way every now and then.

I wonder what a collar for a seven-year-old would look like? *Giggles stupidly*