Reflections of a Love Slave Ch. 05bysimply_cyn©
As I sit to pencil in my thoughts once more, I can't help but wonder how to put them into words that will make sense. They all seem so jumbled up in my head at the moment but I know I must get them out because my heart is near bursting. I have come to that monumental point once more where I could burst into tears at the drop of a hat just thinking about him. There is finally a face to this mystery Master that has eluded me all of these years. Before I used to just see a form but now I see his face and whisper his name in the dark when no one else can hear. I am so overwhelmed by this need to beg him to put an end to my self torture and clasp his steel about my neck but I can not bring myself to do it... not yet.
I want him to throw me to my knees and grasp me by the hair and claim me for the love slave that I can be to him. But I know he is waiting for it to become so overwhelming for me that I, instead, throw myself to his feet and beg it. Can't he see that I can't do that?! So much has happened before his casual but purposeful stroll into my life and I admit it... I'm afraid. I'm afraid!! I feel so helpless around him and it grows with intensity each day. I can't help but wonder if he feels it but at the same time, I know that he does. In each smile he casts my way... in each echo of laughter that follows his words that send me for a spiraling loop into slavery, I know that he does.
It's still so new and I know I must proceed cautiously but how does a slave at heart really do that? I have been trained and reared to simply react, not think. But yet I don't want to repeat past mistakes. Yet I can feel it welling up within me. I can feel the ache building to lay complete at his feet and be, once again, held mercilessly yet lovingly in a steel embrace... in HIS steel embrace. Just when I think I can feel it radiating from him... the desire to claim me, I doubt my instincts and wonder why he would want a simple girl like me. Truth be told, he has his pick of whoever catches his fancy. He is strong, rugged, powerful and above all, Gorean. Why would he want me?
But yet, I know deep down what all I have to offer and I know it is enough. Isn't it? I am worthy to be loved and to be owned. Aren't I? I am beautiful and desirable and worth tenfold of those that pretend to be something they are not. Please confirm this in me! I am your love slave... I am the completion of your mastery. Or am I? Oh, I want to be... please let me be...
Do you feel my helpless desire? Do you see the naked girl that trembles within this false façade? Do you desire to bring out the wanton slut in me? I am yours... all you have to do is claim me boldly. My neck is bare... my soul aching... my slate is wiped clean. Mold me... make me... shape me to be your every desire. I am clay in the hands of my Master.
Please do not leave me here in this façade that I have build around my heart. I am slowly dying beneath the false of robes of freedom. I am enslaved in a lie. I am withering into a frail seed that has fallen dormant in the cold snow of my lonely existence. I want to live! I want to dance my joy at being free in the confines of your embrace. I beg it! I beg to be your slave! Please unchain me from the pits of my self-contained hell!
These things shroud my mind and dreams when I fall into a dream-like slate and allow my thoughts to turn to him. I am so afraid of never having the chance to show him truly who I am. Why can I not just release these longings from my lips so that he might hear them and rejoice in knowing that I am already his? Why can't I be brave and daring and sure of myself any more? Do my wounds really go so deep that even now, I can not trust my own heart?
Please... rescue me.