tagReviews & EssaysThe Ins & Outs of Slave Worship:

The Ins & Outs of Slave Worship:


----consider this a sub's manifesto...----

Have you ever wanted to be in Complete control? To, almost literally, hold someone's life in your hands? To trace a razorblade down and over their jugular? To hold a knife to some one's throat and wonder if that inevitable shudder will be followed by the sigh that will tell you it was pleasure AND pain? Because the two emotions are so intertwined, they are at times indistinguishable. Was that shudder simply fear, pain, or the ecstacy there of? Or a little of everything? I KNOW. I've been on the business end of that razor, that knife. I know the intricacies and the patterns woven out of pleasure, pain, fear, and, occasionally, love, that cause that shudder and sigh.

You want to be in control? I've been bound and restrained - rope, silk, leather shackles, handcuffs, the flesh and bone of fingers - and have pulled against those bonds, not to free myself, but to feel more. I've felt the bite of teeth, the slice of blades, the pop of the crop, the sting of the paddle, the patter of nine tails and the smack of fingers across my skin, the pressure of restraints serving to remind me not to beg for my punishment but to obey with enough cheek to earn it.

You want to be in control? I serve my Mistress in all things outside the plain, mundane, vanilla world most of you call life. (That's not living. living is watching blood and red wax mingle on black sheets.) I also serve those my Mistress puts in charge of me, but NEVER with the same reverence as Mistress and only with her permission. If you find yourself lucky enough to be loaned one of her toys (with supervision, of course) you will not be addressed as Master or anything similar unless Mistress directs me to. You will be lucky to get a "sir" or "ma'am" from me even then, without the capital letter denoting your placement above me. That you have to earn. You have to press my buttons, metaphorically speaking, before I'll gratify your ego. Only two people have gotten that capital S or M from me even at Mistress' request. They had my respect, if not love, outside that room and my obedience (most of the time) within.

You want control? You think you want to be the one locking the cuff, tying the rope, wielding the crop, pinning ME down, running the show. But remember, even if you are allowed (because it is an allowance, on mine and Mistress' part. You will not touch me, let alone hurt me with out both our permission. and you most certainly will not break me.), I am your offering. Play with me properly, or Mistress will withhold her toys from you in the future (and Mistress always has the best toys.) You'll have to give me what I want before I give you the reaction you thrive on. I get mine, then if you're lucky (unless you are Mistress. she always gets what she wants.) You MIGHT get yours. (metaphorically speaking, stupid prick.) Because you aren't running the show.

You want control? This is MY therapy and aside from my Mistress, I'm the one calling the shots in the end, I'm the one really in control, regardless of the binds that literally tie me or who Mistress has told to TRY -just try- and make me beg. Because Mistress and I run the show and the show must go on, with or with out you.

You want control? You don't know what control means. Because you play by my rules, my limits, what I allow. I say the word, and it ends. Game over.

You want control? Can you handle my limits? Some are too squeemish, even in this world of pain. The sight of my own blood has no effect on me, sweetheart, though others are lightheaded at the sight of it. Those that could handle it, have said it was sweet. Do you honestly thin you can handle the sight, scent, metallic-sugar-candy taste of that what gives me life? Many think they can, but few ever do. Are you, regardless of your sex, man enough to handle what I can take?

you want control? Then you need to feel the receiving end of the pain and emotion, then you'll have an inkling of what slave worship means. It's not me groveling at your feet, begging for your indelicate ministrations. It's you meteing out the punishment I dictate, working to please ME with my pain.

You think you really want control?

then by all means, love...


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byCyanideStarr© 4 comments/ 7503 views/ 0 favorites

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