I am still so touched by these words, written by a slave of mine, in Portland, Oregon. Thank you, my sweet slave.
“My Mistress. It was only a little over eight months ago that I first saw your face in picture and read your words. But from that moment forward and every encounter I’ve had with you; the realization of whom I have finally met has been reinforced. You are for me the mystery, the paradox, and the dialectic of my life. In one sphere, your physical beauty is powerful enough to literally stun me. Culminating in your eyes; everybody talks about them. Your eyes are beautiful, remarkably so, but they are also these impeccably clear pathways of power and emotion. Since I’ve met you my confidence, my intuition, and my lust for life have magnified. You are an object and an idea, your existence is exquisite.
In another’s sphere, you are a sadist, you are unattainable, you are commanding. You torture me, you will use me, you will cause great pain. You drive me insanely jealous. The coexistence of these two spheres in simultaneous space is the mystery of this slave’s love. My voluntary slave love is by its very nature: unrequited, unconditional, and undefinable. I continuously learn to understand and except this through allowing you to own part of me.
Thank you, Mistress. “
This is inspiring