Reflections of a Love Slave Ch. 02bysimply_cyn©
“Leonius … Leonius” … his name rolls so easily off my tongue but even now, I dare not speak it. Instead, when my lips form the words, all that comes forth is “Master”. I’ve spent the last two years trying to drive the haunting, yet comforting image of him from my mind and heart and thought I was doing pretty well. In the few times I have been at his feet since his return, I have been painfully reminded that I have failed in this endeavor. His existence as the driving force in my life still remains and dominates all others. He is the Master of my love, of each beat of my heart, of every breath that I take. And he knows it.
He has, in both words spoken and not, pointed out to me all the things I have allowed to creep back into my way of life since his departure. I have both cringed at wept at the girl I have presented to him now after our countless hours together. I have allowed myself to get swept away by those I have surrounded myself instead of holding true to all that he taught me. My shame is great. He says that he does not hold me responsible for the changes he has noticed and I am sure there will be more that become apparent to his unwavering gaze. He knows me like no other and the more time I spend with him, the more I reveal, without even knowing, of how I have let myself go once he was gone. I feel so much shame but yet still find hope in the time he allows me to be at his feet. In one sentence he can have me trembling in fear that I will never be allowed in the comfort of his steel again but hopeful that he might give me a chance. I think he relishes the power he has over me, knowing he keeps me in suspense, frustrated and confused but oh, so overjoyed that he allows me a chance to try.
I don’t think I can put eloquently enough into words all that he was and is to me or begin to explain the thousands upon thousands of hours that he spent with me, molding and shaping me to be his. He had created in me that which he desired most and that which I craved most and in his time away, I had let it slip. I do not doubt that it is still hidden deep within me … all those inane things he had drilled into me. Our time together was spent perfecting the relationship that we had and we were beautiful together, like a finely tuned instrument. My reactions were instant and fueled by his mastery over me. There were no words needed between us … simply a look and I knew what was expected of me. No, demanded of me. We were perfection in its truest sense.
Now little things send me spiraling into tears under his scrutiny, knowing how disappointed he must be to see how I have retracted while he was gone. My timing is off … my responses not instantaneous. I used to be able to read his mind and know what he was thinking without question. Now I find myself stumbling for words and quick responses to his questions. I doubt my answers, hoping they are what he is looking for when I used to just know. Just last night he said, “You’re too emotional, relax slut” but those words alone were enough to send a fresh stream of tears down my cheeks. He knows me, inside and out, through and through, as if no time has passed between us and I ache to belong to him again. In my heart, I know that I never stopped belonging to him … that even in his absence, he was here with me. But I still long to proudly wear his steel again, to have that something that I can reach up and grab a hold of and be reminded in some small, self-absorbed way of being able to physically be reassured that I am, indeed, his.
I think of the things he has noticed and pointed out to me already, small changes that I hadn’t really noticed myself but once pointed out, embarrassed because it was true. Speaking first person comes to mind quickly because even writing in this forum, I speak it but now, because he pointed it out to me, I am more aware of and my fingers are tempted to type as he trained me to. At one time, I would have never spoken first person around him unless commanded to do so and now, in the time that has passed since my release, it comes easier, especially depending on who I am around. He was quick to remind me how disrespectful this was to him, even if it was not my intention.
Another thing he pointed out was how quickly I responded to his questions but they were without the intense emotions that he elicited within me … just quick, to the point answers. In fact, his exact words still ring painfully clear in my ears: “Such distance for a slut with such burning emotion within.” And the most painful part of it is that I know he speaks the truth. At the height of our intense time together, I was a finely tuned instrument that radiated the heat that he created within me. Now here I was, barely able to answer his probing questions and knowing looks without bursting into tears.
I am sure there are plenty of other things that he will point out that have changed in his absence: little things that I let go. As I reflect and try to put it into words, I can only wonder why I allowed this to happen; why I changed so drastically from the girl he painstakingly created to be molded just for his pleasure. I have no answers but I am sure, in time, and with his guidance, that these too will be revealed to me. I have no doubt that he already holds the answers. It’s my job to open my heart enough, painful though it may be, to hear his unspoken words once again.