Out of my darkness and into his


OUT OF MY DARKNESS AND INTO HIS

I have given myself freely to the kindness, to the tender moments of lips pressing into mine, the outline of a finger tracing my curves. He can pull me down, down to the cold floor and erase who i was at that moment, until two fingers enter my cunt and a thumb flickers over my clitoris and then we both feel me crumble. His other hand may spank the round curves of my ass: right buttock, left buttock, right, left, again and again until each smack of his spanking becomes mirrored by the illuminated gasps emerging from a dark place deep inside me. i may writhe and moan, weep onto the floor or come on His hand as it plunges inside of me, twisting and fucking and hurting me but i become redefined and crumble into protective hands…

And between the long hours and days when His hands are missing from my body, it feels a bit like starvation when He isn’t touching me. To soothe my inner cravings and longings for Him and His Dominance, i write and allow for words to soothe the fiery need that crawls from every part of me. i shape dreams and delusions and share the joys of our pleasure and pain. i go back to being there: each individual moment becomes an obsessive captivating fragment as i replay it over and over and over again… i go back to His confidence and certainty of His orders, the glory of His touch, the gentleness of His lips upon my flesh and the two dark pools of light opening me up and demanding my soul. i go back to kneeling beneath Him as He speaks to me, my head on His lap desperately licking and sucking until He controls my head the way He wants it to be… the flash of His beautiful face as it encodes in my mind as He beats down on me and i cannot be any other way; when His needs absorb my desires to please Him: i just simply go back…

And when i am alone, on immediate days after i have been His beloved little slave, i admire the marks. i gaze at them in the mirror: praise and adore them. i look at my reflection. i caress myself and i whisper His name: Oh, Sir… and i find myself hidden away in the bathroom, making love to myself, imagining i’m Him, He’s there, in the mirror looking back at me, caressing skin marked by Him, holding me there against the mirror at the same time His fingers slide in and out of my pink cunt, warm and squishy to the touch and i go back…

i love when He gives me the rights to make love to myself, to fuck myself with toys He has used on me and provided for me. i have no guilt and each time i lie naked on my beautiful soft bed, tangled in the sheets and caressing the concaves of my body, i can’t stop thinking about Him and i can’t stop making love to myself. i inhibit my flesh anew, for Him, my mind a twisted maze of lust seething with desires to keep going back for more and more…

And sometimes i obsess. Sometimes i doubt. Sometimes i feel like the rest of my life is shrinking down, vanishing into a nether, fading away… taking away light and replenishing it with mere shadows of illusions… and i think that i must begin to be careful. i must not loose myself. i must have more than those marks, these thoughts, Him… and i do. On the dark lonely nights of sitting apart, of going back for just a little more, i write for our dreams and our lusts and as He has defined a part of my services to be. i write for the sake of profound wholeness and redemption. i write each fragment, every narrative story to express each distinct moment as the extraordinary pain and pleasure and pain that it was. i blend delusional fiction with the perfect bond that draws us together; out of my darkness and into His.

Advertisements

About Mae East

Brooklyn NYC and vicinity.
This entry was posted in Life, Love, my m/s obsession, S Worship, Sex, Submission. Bookmark the permalink.