Submissive or Slave

A True Story

My submissiveness wants me to have this world of immense beauty.

She wants me to be appreciated as a creature of high sensuality whilst kneeling seeming humble.

My submissiveness is proud- she knows she is working hard to please and to look good. She realises that her esteem only rises when she pleases, delights and edifies her Lord.

She dies inside when she is incorrect- her pride is to do well. To be spoken to, looked at, or noticed for a faux pas by her Lord is a shameful thing, and punishment by her Lord for these things is a lesson both devastating and learnt well. To be forgiven and have her shoulder touched whilst kneeling, and her face raised up by His hand brings the light back into her world again.

My submissiveness wants all the sensory, erotic delights of submission. She wants the mindset as she enters the room and sees Him. She wants Him to look at her and feel dark hunger. She wants the firm hand holding her wrist as He ties her for sensating, the strong grip guiding her to correct position, and the understanding of Him as to what she needs, desires and denies. She wants to feel the heaviness of the marks as she is fucked hard because she has pleased and aroused Him with what she so secretly desires and with her acceptance of His usage of her body for His pleasure.

She feels the kiss of the hand/crop, the touch of the restraints, as a form of Love and Need. She trusts that she will not be soul-harmed and her thoughts respected. She sees that when the time is taken- she is appreciated for what she is, and delight is taken in this and effort is made to excel further. Her marks are marks of Pride. She looks at them and watches time take them away- and waits for the next time.

Submission is psycho-sexual and a state of control.
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The slave in me.

The slave in me wants someone to take all of this away and to just BE.

She wants to please unthinkingly.

She wants the state of mind-cleanliness that gives no room for thought- only primal impulse.

She wants the strength of will that allows Him to protect, treasure and rule her world, knowing that what He says is RIGHT, and the courage to not fear His choice as one of suppression of persona or ugliness of soul.

She wants to serve without wondering why she is doing it, or awkwardness in doing it- and fighting it. Instinctively. Gracefully. Femininely.

The slave in me knows she is nothing to Him, yet everything to Him, as He has accepted her. She knows she is valueless and choiceless. She knows she is His joy.

She knows that her words account minimally and her actions are telling.

She knows that her Prime Directive is her Lord. Her only pleasure is His. Her only needs are His.

The slave in me wants to be her Lord’s possession- and fears it terribly.

Slavery is mental- and there is NO control.
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Upon consideration, no- submission and slavery cannot be balanced.

Submission gives the drive to slavery.

Within slavery is always the submissive urge. The hope of pleasing etc, but in slavery you will not be thanked or pleased for it. In slavery you do not expect to be thanked, though you will most of the time. Sometimes you won't and you aren't bothered that you weren't as it is how it is Meant To Be.
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Submission is about me.

Slavery is about Him.
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