A Prayer For Submission

Disturb me, my Master, when I am too well pleased with myself; when my dreams have come true because I have dreamed too little; when I have arrived safely because I have only sailed along the shore.

Disturb me, my Master, when with the abundance of the stresses I endure, I have lost my thirst for the dark passions of life.

Stir me, my Master, to dare more boldly, to venture on wider seas, where storms will show your mastery; where losing sight of land, I shall find the stars.

I beg you to push back the horizons of my hopes and to push me into the future in strength, courage, and love. 

Open my heart to the love instilled there. My Master loves me tenderly. What he owns is to be kept under lock and key or to be shared as is his wish.

The more I hold back the less I will experience. The more I share, the more I will know service. Let me ask Him, when it comes to asking for something, to help me to be willing.

Empty Days, Full Nights

Freedom awaits

Alone together

Cloistered with Him

Disruptions ceased

Walking the tether

His dominance beckons

Aching with a fervor

Desire paramount

His will not mine

Mists of sinewy need

Bind and ensnare

Breathless distraction

Debased and supplicant

Throbbing and yearning

Petitioning to serve

Whore for pleasure

Emotion flourishes

Pain blossoms

Monster unleashed

Exalted in torture

Please, I pray

Take, I beg

Use, I entreat

Your will, I serve


Mr. D has a gift with words. In the heat of the moment, in the darkness of his control, in the hot sticky motions of our rutting, he is my Shakespeare. Every time I write, I spend time and do all I may to make my language match the intensity of our trysts. I work my paltry words on the page to give you the mental images and the depths of emotions I feel in those private moments. But each time I write, I know I’m not doing him justice. His evocative words in those heated times are so raw and so beautiful. They touch me in a way I’ve never experienced.

Something about this man, my Daddy, is so deep and so eloquent. He puts words to our connection. He puts my words on screen to shame. I felt that I needed to say this today. No matter if I’ve written just after our joining or weeks later, I’ll never capture the fullness of his gift. His touch, his love, his protection, his heat, his grittiness and his words all combine in a man I’m addicted to entirely. He is my drug. He is my equal and yet I kneel to him for he is always and wholly worthy of my worship.


He lights a candle and holds it close.  The light is soft and lures me.  I bask in the glow.  Once he feels me respond to his subtle little flame, he adds more fuel.  

The brightness shines a light over my soul.  He looks ever so closely and sees all of me.  He sees what I want to show, he sees what I hide.  He finds my fears and notices the barriers of my walls. 

A flame thus ignites within me. I respond in kind to his beacon.  I quake in fear that he sees me, that he knows my every secret.  But his light continues to shine bright as day even though my sins are now exposed. 

I see now that he will not turn away.  He wants my sin, he wants my hidden terrors.  He wants my dirty, rotten imperfections.  I roll like a swine in mud.  He grants me freedom to be the basest of pitiful things.

His high beam of stark honesty and vision ignites.  He takes the clay before him and carves out the pure beast within.  His talons grip me, his voracious fire consumes me.  I burn, oh how I burn in his realm.

From the fire emerges a passion that seeks its match and finds it in him.  Red and tumultuous, hot and painful it engulfs us.  The flames lick and eat and take their fill.  The eager coals smolder and deprive me of all my air.

I pant and rut.  His fire turns me on a spit.  Every basted bit is lashed by his words and his tongue.  No reason allows me succor. My thoughts, my being,  the primordial spark of me bends to him.

He fears losing control.  I can’t help him with that.  All my heart and morbid desires want him to lose himself and break me.  Each speck of glorious light I sense in him is answered with a raging wildfire.  

Heaven help me, he called me an angel.  But all I want is to grovel at his feet, to debase myself completely.  The fiber of my mind crackles in the viscous lava of my subservience to him.

Please, I beg of you, destroy all meaning.  Tear my walls and protections from me.  His voice stirs wicked desires.  His dirty words bind me to him for all eternity.  I fall deeper into the abyss gladly. 


His words oh his words

They take me on a ride 

Through my darkest places

Each syllable caresses

A wave of emotion to ride

Surrounding me within him

The meanings fill me

His dark intent made clear

With loving torture

Each staccato riff cuts

Each baritone whisper soothes

My mind on the knife’s edge

I live in the notes of his play

My soul dances with his 

I am crushed and reborn

He makes me his whore

My identity his to take

Owned and set free

Word by word a new vista

An aural heaven found

Bliss wrapped in care

Evil incarnate cradles me

My psyche in his talons

Inky corridors my home

Fulfilled in his dark depths

Made whole in his realm

Please keep me here forever


He is my drug. More is never all I need.

I kiss him and I am languid, liquid joy.

I need the fix, I feel the shakes mounting.

He stokes the hearth and feeds the furnace.

I feel him on me like mink, I breath in his scent.

He is my brilliant zenith, the vortex around which I spin.

I am but the swirling edies spinning about the constancy of him.

He is my beacon, he is ever present churning my ache, my heat. 

I am taken, I am lost, I am his.

Plan, Best Laid – Mr. D

Plans, Best Laid Plans
Drawing back the shutters of my imagination

Opening the flowering sex of my slut

Plundering the depths of my soul and depravity

While ever claiming her as mine


I desire the dark

I crave the needful expanses of her longing

Overflowing the well-spring of my desire

Fueling the frenzied passion of our coupling

I climax in the knowledge and act of her contrition


Property of equals

We conquer together, we love together

A journey of equals in life

Consummating servitude thus mating and rutting ensue

She is mine to command and protect


Taking of and claiming

By right and will she serves a knee

Awaiting my attention contritely

Seldom admonished she knows well my pleasure

Rewarded as the slut in service she is


Plans, Best Laid

I fondly plan and prepare the scene

Only to act upon said event with wanton abandon

Restraint! I know not restraint where she serves

I suffer in dominance and amor

As an engineer unhinged by her


Plans, Best Laid

Yet unresolved, undone by my desire

Undone by her beauty and shapely self

Undone by an unrelenting need to lose myself in her

Plans, Best Laid and forgotten in the melding of us… 

Aug 30, 2015

His Thoughts

Where do I start?

The dirty perverted things in my head have come to fruition because she is willing to make the effort and enjoy the journey.  The hiding of my demons and desires is in my past. My life has been iluminated in the dark.  I love the dark corners of my mind.  The little pitfalls and playthings of my imagination.   It is sublimely freeing.  I don’t jump to every desire but I explore them all with a focus on safety and return on investment.  Returns come in many ways…sexual gratification, wall climbing mind numbing subspace, creating opportunities,  financial, and personal desire. 
Damn.  I get hot thinking of her and the life we lead.  The freedom and the opportunity are enough to distract my every moment.  Waking or sleeping she consumes my moments, my heart, and my focus.   I crave the chances to hear her gasp.  To see her head roll back. To feel her pulse quicken.  To make her wet.  To leave a mark.  And to have her snuggle up and get lost running her hands over me.   I am never so amazingly focused as when she is stroking my chest, arms, face, and cock.  

She is the most giving and loving person I have ever met.  She is an angel on earth.   Of course it is my happiest moments when her halo is used as my cock ring and I am taking her to the dirtiest of places…  She is inspiration.  She is my muse and she is mine.   All mine.  I am hers.  

So Much

 I have so much to share and the feeling of needing to get it all down is pressing.  I find if I don’t write it while it is fresh in mind then it flutters away on the winds.

This past weekend was my one year anniversary with Mr. D.  One year since meeting him and opening the door wide to a world of exploration with him.

I posted two poems on Saturday.  The Becoming Us poem was Mr. D’s gift to me on our anniversary.  I was so touched and filled with emotion at his beautiful words.  Usually, when he writes, I hold those words close to my heart for a while keeping them private.  At some point, the need to share them here grows greater than my need to cherish them in my own privacy.  When Mr. D sat me down to write on Saturday, I thought I would write of Friday night.  What came out, however, was a poem.  That was the other poem I posted Saturday, Falling.  Once, those words were on the page it seemed fitting to publish the two together.

Tonight Mr. D asked me what I meant in the first part of Falling because it concerned him. That brought something to mind for me about poetry.  When I write a poem, I want to share words and emotions in a different way than prose.  Rather than telling a detailed story, in poetry I strive for imagery. When I begin to write, I let it flow out of me unhinged in a flood.  Afterwards, I read through and hone the language and the imagery.  I have no idea how others do it nor do I have any training. I allow raw feeling with poetry.  When I edit it, I usually remove the wordiness.  I want it distilled to the raw sense, no wordy explanation to mire the flow.

What can happen with this method, clearly, is my meaning can be up to interpretation.  It can mean several things exactly because I’ve stripped it down.  That is what happened here.

I wrote that I had fallen.  I fell in love with Mr. D a year ago.  I wrote that I continue to fall.  Recently, I’ve felt a resurgence of being in love with him.  Our love has deepened and taken on more colors of the spectrum for me. I likened the falling to an endless well. Sometimes, I slow in the descent and feel at peace, content, our relationship as a comfort. The floor rises up and bouys me. No longer am I falling.  But then something happens, some event or nuance and again I feel the falling sensation again. The thing about falling in love, just like any falling, is that it has fearsome qualities.  At one moment, falling can be a thrill like flying but then it turns and becomes a fearful falling like jumping off a cliff.  There is risk involved especially for those of us that have been hurt before. Experience is a quirky thing, it can show us oh so brightly where our scars are located.

In the poem I said that fear is my comfort.  Rather than running from it, I have made the conscious decision to embrace it. I’m past running from my fears.  I did that.  It didn’t get me anywhere good.  So, these days, if It comes down to fight or flight then I am putting my toes on the line.  Whatever Mr. D and this life of ours together brings, I’m taking it. I love that he pushes my buttons.  I want to feel every damned emotion he brings me.  It is an incredible gift I’ve been given to share myself with this man, with this Dominant man.  I’m not going to leave half that gift on the table because I’m scared.  

I want to share every emotion with him.  I want to submit fully to him. I want to orgasm for him.  I want to let down every wall buried inside me.  I want it scary and raw and completely open. 

Image by You Mee used with permission through CC 2.0 and found here https://m.flickr.com/#/photos/httpwwwyoumeflickrcom/8096549465/