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It’s better to find a match that you can grow to trust. Someone who can help you delve deeper into your darkest desires.
this? It could be a way to confront that part of me that isn’t fully healed, the part of me that’s still dark and twisted.
But there’s a power in submitting wholly to someone. To giving them everything and trusting them. I want to do it again.
She’s like a kitten in a sense. My kitten. Sharp claws, and born into this world ready to claw her way to where she needs to go. But curious. I can rely on that curiosity.
Everything here is a choice.
This walking deity becomes the only thing that exists in the room for me, and his eyes seem to silently say to me, You’re fucking mine.
I’m not a hothead; I’m not an overtly angry person. But when it comes to her, things are different.
An abuser is not a Master.
Your eyes will never be cast down, and your head never bowed. You represent me, and you will demand respect.
You are my greatest treasure, and your trust in me will not be taken for granted.
I own your pleasure.
The rose color of the Submissive indicates her preferences, so please take note. Pink - Virgin Cream - Finding limits/BDSM virgin Yellow - Simple bondage D/s Black - Carte blanche Red - Pain is preferred S/M No flower - 24/7 power exchange
I won’t let her think she’s anything other than the gorgeous creature she is.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, I tell myself over and over in a litany meant to strengthen me, knowing that if the first tears fall I’ll turn into a blubbering mess. I don’t know how I can’t do anything but break down, I feel too weak.
“I could never be upset with you over your pain.”
I feel torn in two, and I don’t know which side will win. I want to keep her forever. I don’t want to deny these feelings I have for her any longer. But I want to save her beautiful light from my darkness.
You can survive this, I tell myself. I am a strong woman. I’ve been through hell and back, and look at me. I survived. “I’m a survivor,” I intone, but my voice cracks and a wave of emotions threatens to send me over the top, and I cover my mouth to keep sobs from escaping.
But for her, I’ll try. I promise to fucking God, I will try to be better for her.
“I’ll tell you anything.”
“Then tell me!”
she yells at me, and I’m at a loss for words. I take a step toward her again, so close to touching her, but she steps back, moving from my reach. I drop to my knees in front of her. Desperate for...
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“I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry! I’m broken. I’m hurt. I need you in my life. I need to lean on you and learn to put fait...
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“Just tell me what you want to hear!”
“I told you I loved you!”
“Of course I love you!”
“I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you,”
“You deserve better than me. More than what I can give you. But if you want me, I won’t deny you.”
“I fucking love you, Katia.”
“I love you, Isaac.” Her voice is soft and gentle. “My Master,” she says in a whisper. “I love you.” “I love you, kitten.”
She’s raw and vulnerable. She’s not afraid to share her pain, because she knows with that there’s healing.
Her entire family already knows that I’ll be proposing. I promised them she’ll forever be surrounded by love. She deserves it.
I’m more of a Slave to her than she ever was, or will be, to me.
