There were times when Tiffany Garner thought her mommy didn't really love her.

As a ten year old, Tiffany shouldn't have been in any doubt about the matter. Just because she was her mom's slave didn't mean she wasn't loved. Her mother reassured her daughter frequently that she was very much loved, especially when Tiffany was tied to something or chained up in some way.

But that was the problem: Tiffany wanted her mom to say it when she wasn't secured or fastened down, and especially when she wasn't gagged so she could respond with something like, 'I love you too, Mommy.'

Tiffany began to brood on it. She even said it one day, over a meal. 'You never say you love me when I'm not being a slave,' the naked little girl complained halfway through eating.

Eating with one hand because her other one was bound up behind her back - a short rope tying her wrist to her collar. Her usual black leather collar.

'Nonsense, honey,' replied the girl's mother calmly, looking up from what she was reading.

Tiffany looked worried when she had said what she did, as if she feared some punishment for for what she said - and even more so for the fact she had spoken without permission during a meal. But the woman didn't look angry, or about to issue a PEP. Tiffany had already had three PEPs - Punishable Error Points - for mistakes or clumsiness that week already and didn't want any more as Sunday would be a very painful day indeed when they were all honored.

The child however had to press on with her point. 'But you don't say it, mommy! You only tell me when I'm tied in my punishment chair or chained to the wall or even when I'm taking a cold bath in my rubber straps.'

The girl's mother looked at the girl steadily. She was a tall, attractive and surprisingly young looking 32 year old and her clear blue eyes were fixed on her slave daughter. 'I tell you often, Tiffany. Sometimes when you are all bound and gagged and sometimes when you are free.'

The ten year old's face crumpled into doubt. She couldn't remember when the latter occured.

'Honey,' continued the woman softly. 'I'm your mistress. I have to treat you the way I do, you know that.'

Tiffany knew it all too well. For three years she had been her mom's slave, working and helping round the home in chains and a gag, often being tied to her bed or a chair or bound in small spaces.

She had also been pegged out on the lawn in the hot sun, or made to stand up to her knees in freezing water. The ten year old had been whipped and spanked and pinched, made to go naked or wear tight plastic clothes as well as a 'junior slave' garter belt, stockings and high heels.

She even had her first bra, though she had yet to develop breasts. However her mom liked her to wear it for the way the child's small nipples peeked through the pretty peep holes in the flat lace edged cups. So much easier to clip something to them.

But though her mom had often told Tiffany she loved the child while she was being punished or tormented or even hurt, the girl simply couldn't remember her mother just saying she loved her when she wasn't restrained in some way.

'When did you say it to me, mommy?'

'Last night sweetie, when you were asleep. Sometimes I creep into you bedroom and whisper it to you, all softly so I don't wake you up.' Elaine Garner smiled gently at her daughter.

Tiffany cast her mind back and her face frowned again. 'But mom, I was chained to my bed. You put my neck chain on, remember?'

'No, honey,' corrected the woman across the table. 'You put your neck chain on. I simply said you had to be in bed at eight. So you went up and put your chain on and got into bed. It was you who did that.'

'But...' Tiffany was confused. 'Y-you'd punish me if I didn't lock myself up.'

'Perhaps, but it was your choice. You can go to bed without restraints. I explained that to you a long time ago and remind you about it from time to time. Putting chains on yourself is your choice. Being my slave is your choice.'

'Sure, but I don't understand. Why can't you tell me when I'm not chained to my bed?'

'Okay, I'll tell you know. I love you Tiffany.'

'Mom! I've got my a wrist chain on and my ankle chains and my hand's all tied up behind me.' Exasperated, the child held her fettered free wrist up to demonstrate the obvious and kicked her legs under the table, so the chains at her ankles rattled.

'But who put them on you?'

'Umm... I did, I guess. I had to take the trash out and wash the dishes and I can't do that without chains on. It's the rule.'

'So that's my point,' smiled the mother. 'It's your choice. You have no choice being a slave - my slave - and at times I have to do what all mistresses do and tie you up or silence you or spank you. I have no choice, as we know. But when I don't do anything to you and you have duties, you put your chains on yourself, right?'

The ten year old girl didn't look entirely sure, so the woman continued. 'If you put chains on yourself then you are free to do it as you want. At times you put ankle chains and wrist chains on without fastening them to your collar.'

Tiffany blushed and self-consciously put her free hand up to her collar. She had clipped her wrist chain to the restraining staple on her collar when she sat down to eat, and even found a long chain to fasten her ankle chain to her neck. She had forgotten to do it when she was busy earlier, but she tried to pretend there was a reason.

'Um, I had to er, sweep the garage and the long chain sort of snags.' It wasn't very convincing and she blushed.

'Well, now you can see that was your choice,' Elaine was smooth, assured and sure of herself. The complete mistress. 'That means you are free in a real way. So if I tell you I love you when you have put your own restraints on, like I did just now, then I am telling you while you are free. Understand?'

Tiffany opened her mouth to object but closed it. As the saying went: "An open mouth is a mouth looking for a gag."

Tiffany didn't really understand but she wisely let the words sink in. One thing she had learned was not to react, not to assume. A slave listened carefully, and either did what she was told or weighed up the consequences of not obeying. It was like that now: she had to let her Mommy-Mistress' words soak in.

Wisdom from Mommy-Mistress. Or MoMi, as Tiffany called her when she wrote down her punishments in her Slave Journal.

Across the table her mother returned to her "Small Slave Owner" magazine and the article on the relative merits of made-to-fit ball gags for children.

'Mommy,' Tiffany asked after a few minutes. 'Will you tell me one day when I'm not in any sort of chains or ropes or straps?'

'Tell you what?' the woman didn't look up.

'Um... That you love me.'

Elaine sighed. 'I would honey, no problem. Except that as my slave I don't want you ever being without some restraints. You don't, either. Even in the bath, or going to school or just relaxing, you know there has to be something to remind you of being a slave, right?'

The ten year old girl nodded. She couldn't recall a time when she didn't have some slave reminder, even if it was simply knee straps and walk-restricter beneath her skirt when they went to the mall. Went she went swimming, or did athletics, she had a gag in her mouth or a heavy collar at her throat. She wore handcuffs all day at her school lessons or had her feet locked into stocks under her desk if she needed her hands free.

Tiffany never slept these days without some method of confinement.

And no chair in the house was complete with restraint straps to hold the child's arms or legs or body immobile.

Bondage had been part of young life for three years and her Mommy-Mistress wouldn't set her free soon, the girl knew.

Slaves like Tiffany weren't set free until they were well into their teens - and often into their twenties. In fact, some young females simply went from a childhood in restraint through the so called 'Tied Teens' to their wedding day, walking down the aisle in bridal bonds and heading for a married life in slavery. Until perhaps she gave birth to a daughter and could then be a Mommy-Mistress herself.

Even that might not be allowed, even then. Tiffany had seen, in her mother's slave magazines, pictures of women in chains and gag breast-feeding their baby. The baby all tied up, too.

Tiffany had never forgotten she was her mommy's slave. Right from her seventh birthday when her first handcuffs were clicked shut round her little wrists, she knew she was a slave here to do exactly what her MoMi wanted.

That was love, wasn't it?

There had been all sorts of landmarks too along the way for the child, like first ball gag, her first ankle chains. Her first day completely naked round the house. Her first day in bonds at school, her first night in her prison-bedroom.

But Tiffany also remembered the times her mom had been very kind as she told her daughter she loved her - not just because she was a good slave, or a pretty slave, but simply because she loved her daughter no matter how she was tied or silenced.

The child felt better. 'I'm sorry, mommy for doubting you,' she said.

'That's okay, sweetie. I know you can get a little anxious. Anyway, I do love you even though I have to give you extra PEPs.'

'B-but why?' Tiffany's face fell.

'Talking at meal time without permission. That's one. Number two, lying by saying your long chain snagged when you were cleaning the garage. Finally, an extra special PEP - doubled - for forgetting to call me Mommy-Mistress.'

'That's four altogether,' said a dispirited Tiffany as she tallied them up. 'That means I'll have a total of seven punishments on Sunday.' She couldn't help but shudder at the prospect of a day with plenty of hurts.

'But as I love you very much, honey,' said Elaine leaning forward with a pleasant smile on her face, 'we'll call it six if you don't make any more naughty errors in the rest of the week.'

Tiffany grinned. 'Yes, Mommy-Mistress, I love you too.'

The ten year old resumed eating her dish of cold porridge with her fingers, glad her mommy really did love her lots and lots after all.