My Souls Lost Master

I close my eyes and I can see him. With each breathe, I can smell him. My finger tips feel him as my memory sculpts his divine being into my mind.  My lips taste only of his, and the constant thoughts of him, climbing inside my soul drives me insane. Every day.

Just the thought of his hands on my body, his lips on mine, his skin close by. I ache deep inside, craving to feel him, against me, beside me, controlling me. He weakens me, completely. My mind is no longer my own. When I give myself, I submit to him.

It wont be long. I know when he is coming for me. I can feel it. I always feel it.

I wait patiently. I listen constantly for the sound of his boots approaching the door. Do I get up and answer, or just leave it open? He will walk through. There is no need for invitation. He knows where he belongs, and he knows where I belong.

The dog goes crazy. She feels him approaching. The door opens. His presence floods the apartment.  My heart is beating. I am overwhelmed. I feel anxious, yet I’m excited. I feel like a teenager waiting for her first kiss, or a little girl waiting for her daddy to come home with candy.

My body is tingling with impatience, anticipating the pleasure of our souls connecting on a deep level. My lover, my strength, my weakness, my world. He is here, and he has come for me.

As his lips touch mine, I loose a breathe, every time. My heart skips a beat. I feel almost dizzy as our hearts catch up as we dance together to the sound of our souls drumming, performing an intimate tango around the fires burning within.

I can’t wait. I can’t wait for his hands to stroke my body. I can’t wait to feel his skin burning against mine, feeling our existences melt together, becoming one, for that moment, to awaken the lingering passion in our souls.

He stares. He watches my face. His gaze goes right through my eyes, deep into my soul. My thoughts run and hide, yet he finds them, they become his to do with as he wishes. One by one. He toys with my body, hearing my moans, feeling my wants and needs on the surface, on the inside I am an sea of wild emotion.

He is strong. I weaken as I run my hands along his forearms to his shoulders, across his back, and his smooth hairless chest. I touch his face, eyes, nose and mouth with my finger tips, sculpting and painting his physique in my mind.

Intimate thoughts and feelings overwhelm me as I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I hold that breath before exhaling, and inhaling him again.

I melt under the size of him as he crushes me, gently. I can feel him climbing right into me. It feels like rivers of lust and love running wild with rapids, dancing against rocks and broken sticks, a roughness on the outside, yet a calmness below the water surface. I drift away to a place where I feel safe, and secure, and loved, if only for a short time. I feel protected and whole. I belong to him. Only him.

I can’t breathe, but I don’t need to breathe as his breathe becomes mine. I yearn to taste him. My lips reach for his skin. Between my teeth. I want to feel his flesh melt in my mouth. I want to taste him and feel his blood seeping into my soul, taking ownership, as I reach a place of contentment.

He excites me. He drives me. He controls me. He weakens me. He strengthens me. He fills me with life, with love, with a need. Its an obsession. Its an addiction. I love it but I hate it.

Sex is sex. The connection is deeper, richer, stronger, beyond intimate. The love is not from this lifetime or the last. It will continue beyond what we can control. He can control it. He does control it all, but he has no clue.

I was ready. I longed to fully surrender, and submit, to him and only him. I needed a lover who was my master, and my owner, to take ownership and control me fully, mentally, physically, emotionally, intimately and sexually, for both our pleasures.

How I wished for him to be able to take full control, to push me down, hold me, restrict me. I ached to be at his feet, bound in his ropes and chains. I craved to hear the music of his hand slapping my skin. I wanted to feel the sting with each bare slap as the blood rushed to the surface. I wanted to see and feel his love branding my skin long after he had gone.

I was ready for him to use my body, to take ownership of it and tighten the ropes and chains around me, but I dared never to ask. He had no idea how to reach in and take what was his. He couldn’t read or control my thoughts. There was no orgasm. There was no point of no return, no suspension, no lingering, no pleasure in pain. He didn’t see the ropes that lay loose around my feet,  if he did, I know he would not have know how tight to tighten them.

He had no idea how much I needed to please him with my subservience. I wanted to be his world as I was his, respectfully, gratefully, completely.

I didn’t want to teach him. I couldn’t be his leader or guide. I needed him to be mine as I needed to be his, but it couldn’t be. Without his dominance there was no way I could devote and surrender myself fully to him. I couldn’t give away my secrets to a man that couldn’t see them. This man would never know me.

I was afraid he would hurt me, physically and mentally. In the end I was right. I was right to leave and find solace in the hands of another master, a master who loves me and cares for my body and soul as it is his own. The sound of his palm slapping my bare skin, and the rush of the blood to my head. He controls my mind and my body for my pleasure and I let him for mine.

I’m home, and I have missed home.


Rene J



* Many men and women fantasize about being in a dominate relationship. Apart from soft role play in the bedroom for fun, extreme caution should be practised. There is a fine line between pleasure and pain, and played without knowledge can have long term damaging effects, both physically and mentally. If its not a lifestyle for you, stick to your fluffy padded blindfolds, soft rope and a feather for kicks..



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