From his eyes
Its not rare for Me to cultivate a divinely unique connection with a slave. Nor is it rare for a submissive to discover subspace for the first time at My hand.
However, it is rare for Me to say yes to an inquiry from a slave. I am the discerning type of Woman to choose substance first. To the true slave whom approaches Me with a genuine, heartfelt intentions always comes first in My book. To the respectfully obedient slave I freely share my delectable world of kink and all that I have to offer.
The following is a letter from a slave I’ve seen long ago (posted with their consent of course) . Although it’s been some time since we’ve played, it is a moment I remember as clearly as if it were yesterday.
In all my forays into professional kink, even some of the best sessions, at root, felt transactional. With you, even prior to us meeting, you wanted to know me and encouraged me to bring a book with profound subjective meaning. When you had me bow on my knees, I went to the floor and your feet in an instant. You commended my submission. You already had me then and there.
I am not into pain but pain from you was so rewarding. You whooshed my suffering with reassurance, “I know. I know.” Most surreally, however, was it was like we were engaged in telepathy. You had broken the code in my mind and your dominance came so intuitively.
While I was bound, you dry humped me and so elegantly stated, “you’ll NEVER fuck me, but I can fuck you.” You spat in my face repeatedly and the way in which you did shook me to the core.
By the time you led me to the shower I was shivering as I had been submerged in subspace long before. You led me and I blissfully followed. We were truly one. After enduring all of the psychological and physical, You gifted me one final act of humiliation. Something so wildly taboo I dare not write it out. I will say that your laughter and self-satisfied grin at your finished product still stays with me.
As if this day couldn’t improve any more, you invited me to join you in the hot tub. This was the moment where I envisioned what a life in your servitude could look like. You understood me better than anyone in my life and You figured me out in under two hours. After tapping into the transcendence that accompanied our time and space together, my only regret from an unrivaled and unprecedented day of D/s exploration was that it had to end.
I am fundamentally altered as a result of that December day because I know that nothing or no one can achieve such a profound completeness in me. Instead I am left to a resigned yearning for what could be. What should be if I could shed the tyrannical tethers of societal expectations. I know my failure to launch is my own obstinacy to a leap of faith, what others think. But deep down, tacitly, I know that the path to completeness stops first through oblivion. When can it be my path, Empress?
Most submissive identifying men suffer through sexual identity like this. Wanting to submerge themselves into the role of slave, but unable and afraid of challenging society’s social status quo. I implicitly understand, and have the greatest empathy for those who must be strong for everyone else.
To Me, your submission is the greatest treasure. Thank you for entrusting Me with your vulnerability.
Deepest gratitude,
