She’s headstrong and stubborn and fierce and thorough. There may be times when she will drive you mad but she fights and argues for what she believes is right. When she stops fighting, she stops caring, and your hope is lost.
In the almost 7 years that i’ve been Master’s property, W/we haven’t been separated for more than a couple of days at a time. Recently, i’ve had to attend to a family matter out of town, and this required a separation of almost 2 weeks. i dreaded this time…i knew it would be hard, but it still caught me off guard. The security of His physical presence was gone and i felt like a sailor who had fallen off the ship and was being tossed around by a raging sea. How in the world do people manage long-distance relationships?
But this physical distance has helped me to realize something…something that my Master actually had to point out to me. There is a hole at my very core…a hungry void which craves to be filled with purpose, meaning, direction, structure. Without that, i lack something vital. i understand now why some women will call themselves “unimportant”, “worthless”, “useless”. we are all that when the hole is empty, and by filling that hole, it’s our Masters who give us value.
The hole inside is so desperately needy that it scares me. It’s unnerving to see that i don’t have that internal sense of purpose on my own, that i can’t be complete on my own. i need Him. On the other hand, He’s complete on His own with His own purpose, goals, and drive to achieve them. This makes me feel very attached to Him, and very vulnerable. What if this or that….insert bad thought/possibility. And what if…..what if…what if He changes His mind and decide i’m too much work? But that’s just my history speaking. i don’t personally know anyone else who is as needy this way as i am, and i’ve only met a few online who seem to be.
This new understanding casts a better light on the way W/we relate to each other…on what feels comfortable. i have a hole in need of filling, and i seek that out and open myself. On the other hand, my Master has an abundance of purpose, direction….and He seeks out a hole to fill with His essence. Together, W/we make a whole, like two pieces of a puzzle that fit in all the right places.
This craving to be filled with Him, to be used…it feels very primal, as if it comes from an ancient part of the brain. It also feels sexual, although sex in the traditional sense might not be involved. It’s not so much about fucking as it is about power, His Domination, and my surrender. That feels right to me. It feels right to be used by Him, as it satiates that gnawing hunger. i wonder sometimes what is it that i’m hungry for? It’s a hunger for life, to exist, to be real. Without use, i’m not real. i can’t exist for myself…i must exist for Him. Some people might call this degree of dependence mentally unhealthy, but i know otherwise.
Liquid fire touched her skin and she bucked slightly, her hips lifting off the bed. The pain was exquisite, all-consuming and demanding her attention. Then as quickly as that, the pain melted into sweet warmth, comforting and soothing. Like a master percussionist he beat out this rhythm on her skin with each drop of molten paraffin. Each area of her quivering body he attended, tensed and relaxed at his command. Untouched skin sang notes of harmony, soft hairs standing on end as she distinctly felt the cool contrast of the night air against her skin. Skillfully placed kisses between pools of wax threatened to bring her to climax.
Soft black silk wrapped her eyes and cold steel bound her limbs but her mouth was left uncovered so each gasp and intake of breath could be heard and each moan was free to echo in the darkness beyond the reach of the flickering light.
Moan, she did, slowly at first softly but as spikes of pain washed into warm embrace, again and again, her moans grew longer and louder. The heat of the wax seeming to absorb into her and flowed into her abdomen where it coalesced into raging fire that would soon consume her entirely. Pain, warmth, a kiss, a touch, cool air on hot skin, over and over the cycle went each time building on the last as his attention moved progressively toward her most receptive flesh. Soon, lost in the dark cacophony of her own cries of pain and passion, she was unprepared when he entered her. She released all restraint in a deluge of heat that drenched her welcome invader in the heat he had so kindly created inside her.
Jerseyg2 reborn 