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Slave Think

From my mindscape to your imagination. My journey though this world of self discovery through bdsm and the emotions of a slave in training.
1 year ago. January 24, 2023 at 3:54 PM

As you wander down the path of beautiful submission, innocent and pure; finding new facets of your soul. You can't help but feel the heat in your chest grow as you learn to love who you are and what you will become. The roads you could take are seemingly endless. Yet as you proceed down this rabbit hole of pleasure, self discovery, pain and heartache, you find yourself reflecting on the complexities of this vexing journey.

 

I am vast. Like an ocean left bare, untouched my mankind. You can look at my cool exterior, kind and bubbly no person would question the turmoil within. Why would they? Humans are inherently selfish. We all protect those we are bonded with, those we love, even those we hate; this line drawn in the sand is as stable as a performer on a tightrope. Tentivly balancing herself with the elements of the outside slamming against her as the sea upon the shore. The same could be said of this person in their entirety. Some moments are like hours, dragging its nails across the chalk board of my mind; the shrill burst negativity splashes the canvas of my self worth, generated by my own insecurities; by my own pain.

 

I am becoming a slave. From the standpoint of a woman who fears the world but does not back down to any challenge she faces. Growth is the essence of humanity, for when we stop growing we crumble. Suffering from the voices of mental illness, anxiety and depression. The constant energy of suffering and the lack of energy to do otherwise seems like a terrible way to exist does it not?

 

My mind is a battle of constant fears, worries, self hatred, bitterness, and pain.

 

My soul is innocent, pure and kind. Too sensitive for the horrors of this cruel world. Hurt by the lack of empthy seen in others; in society.

 

I am training to be a slave. Obedient, honest, pure.

 

So why does my mind hyper analyze this task. Why do I look within only now as everything is stripped bare in front of another.

 

Because I need to. I am tired. Dragging my feet, brused and battered along the glass littered road of life, submission, slavery, complete and total surrender is like the softest, warmest bed you have ever floated into like warm hands caressing your body.

 

As a slave, I am empty like a concert hall after hours as the lone cellist sings out in hope with beautiful melody. Echoing along its bare walls, perfectly balanced. I am wholly surrounded in the reverberating protection that is my Master. He shakes me to my bones, penetraites my soul with his voice, smooth and controlled. No worry exists here, no pain, no loneliness.

 

I am becoming a Slave; the purest form of feminine power, strength required to trust, to be who I am true to my soul is taxing. The energy required equivalent to 1000 suns.

 

Yet I am training to be a Slave. I will burn bridges to the past, murder the villains of my mind, poison the self doubt that consumes me.

 

I will become the purest perfection.

 

Just to see his smile. My Master. My soul and heart in his hands he tentivly reminds me I am his in my broken entirety.

 

-Pandaish


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