In a time that now seems very very long ago, I let someone control me who had neither the courage nor the tenderness to be my Sir. He was a coward who operated on tyranny, not power, and he lazily thrashed about, a prisoner of his own weakness. This man knew nothing of love because he did not love himself. Sadly, I was drawn into his black hole, a half-born star not yet bright enough to resist.
He never laid a hand on me, but the bruises he left on my spirit and my trust were deeper and darker than those you so skillfully paint my skin with. I was chained to him, tangled in sloppy bondage with no safeword to protect me. I was a slave to his darkness, and his self-loathing disease infected my heart, extinguishing my light and blinding my eyes. I was very very young and naively came to believe that this was all I was worth.
With you I have learned loved, and like a child, I wander in your light and rename the world after gentle words. In your touch I am reborn, I am cleansed. When I am with you, I transcend my body, forgetting it completely, and I become a vast and powerful energy. You test my limits, but not without the safety net of my precious safewords,the precious gifts that you gave me when we first came together, and with these words we create and share power, we make something that did not exist before. Between us stars are born.
Once, however, this man desecrated the temple of my body, tearing down my altar and refusing my desperate placates. Though you have rebuilt my temple and worship with head bowed and reverent at my altar, sometimes something catches my scars, and they split wide open. I cry out my ultimate safeword and immediately you end the game, wrapping me up in your arms, holding on until my world resettles. Mostly the terror radiates from within, for, physically, my cervix bore the greatest wound, and there are times when you put your fingers or your penis inside of me and I am overtaken by my old fear, I am paralyzed and destroyed by it, as if I were living the incident all over again. I am filled with shame for my body, which nature made weaker even as she made it in her own image.
A true Sir, you respect my boundaries even as you push them, and most of all, you never forsake the sanctity of my safewords. But as my Sir, my lover, and my partner, you suffer when my light goes out because you wish me free of pain and of fear and of all my troubles. You know my true self and to see me otherwise lowers your spirit.
So one night I come home to a trail of rose petals. It is dark save for a row of candles on the mantle and the air is scented softly with incense. I feel as though I have passed into a divine reality.
"I know it's a little cheesy," you admit, approaching from the darkness, "But you are my fairytale princess. Will my lady accept this gift?"
I am tickled. "Of course, my Sir."
You smile and then blindfold me, and I happily submit. You undress me as if removing the packaging from something very very fragile, and then take my hand to guide me down the rose petal path. My other senses come to new life, and as I feel the soft petals break under my bare feet, my nose is pleasantly filled with the fragrance they release.
We move into the bathroom, where more sweet scents arouse my senses and ease my mind. Holding my shoulders, you ease me into the bathtub, which is filled with warm water. It fills in around me like a cocoon, and there are rose petals in the water as well. The water splashes and ripples as you wet your hands, a fragrant soap releases its scent as you lather it up, and then I feel the suds on my skin as you wash me.
I imagine you on your knees beside the tub. You whisper into my ear as you rub the bar of soap over my shoulders, down my back, over my chest, and between my breasts. "You are a goddess to me," you say, "For your submission, you are a goddess, and you are so precious and dear to me for it. Without you, I am nothing."
You pay special attention to my breasts, massaging them, circling and teasing my nipples. I moan softly and feel the heat flare up between my legs and spread throughout my body, making my hair stand on end. You work a lather down my body to my belly.
"Every part of you is beautiful," you say, "Every part of you is special. Every part of you is sacred. Because you give all of them to me, I promise to protect and love you always, my wonderful, good girl."
You move down to my abdomen and run your fingers through my thick pubic hair. You then move to my hips, down my thighs, lifting one leg out of the water. You wash me as if polishing a diamond, and as you work the soap along the sole of my foot, I shiver and a whimper escapes my lips. You slide your fingers between each toe, and the sensation sends waves of pleasure up and down my body. I can feel my sex fill with heat and blood, the life energy inside of me kindled and spreading throughout. Gently setting my leg back in the water, you do similarly to the other, and again, as you massage my foot and toes, I shiver, and the life energy grows stronger.
You wash back up the inside of my thigh, and then cup my vulva. You spread me open and I moan loudly, leaning back on my arms as I arch my back, bucking my body to you. You work up a gentle lather, careful not to irritate my sensitive parts, and with your fingers, clean between the folds of my labia, parting me like a flower, like the petals that float in the water. I too release my own nectar, and engorged with blood, my petal-skin is soft and warm.
You reach farther back between my legs, and massage my perineum before you spread my buttocks and clean my anus, pressing gently inside of me. I suck in a breath as the ring of muscle tightens and then relaxes. The water splashes and moves all around me as I buck again, my body grown starved for you.
"Good girl. Now hold your breath."
