Esoteric Submission

You are my silver dream,
A whisper in the moon’s glow,
A delicate light in the quiet night,
Where tender shadows flow.

In your eyes, a world unfolds,
A realm of starlit skies,
Where every glance is a gentle dance,
A promise that never dies.

Your touch, a soothing balm,
In the chaos, a serene stream,
You are the calm, the magic psalm,
You are my silver dream.

In the hush of midnight’s grace,
When the world fades into gray,
Your presence is my sacred place,
Where my heart longs to stay.

You are the echo of my soul,
The melody of my every theme,
In your embrace, I find my whole,
You are my silver dream.

If his tarnished bronze shadow were a name it would be Aeshma.

The shadow reaches out languidly into her depths, luring her with pain, teasing her with pleasure.

He calls to her with a voice like trickling moonlight, awakening her, bringing her into her true form.

The shadow scrawls his name across her chest, Aeshma. Licking the bloodied blade, tasting her life force, he whispers “Mine.”

It sounds like a hammer on the anvil, or the way that chains clatter. Sometimes, the sound of locks as they are carefully turned.

That sound rings through our oubliette, turning the pages of soft vellum that are delicately inked in black blood, the tome of our deeds.

The sound makes those fiends that whisper secrets in my mind giggle, like a wind that touches you ever so slightly. Tempting me to the edge of the abyss, pushing me over with their recondite prophecy.

This sound traces its fingers along the landscape of my mind. It is the sound of depravity, control, sacrifice, pain, and pleasure all blended into one word: Master

I was a black swan,

With a crown stolen,

Proudly defined.

I tugged at his darkness,

Enticed his power,

Heady like the deepest red wine.

 

We became incandescent,

While dancing with the blades,

Dark souls relentlessly entwined.

He brought me to my knees,

With little more than a whisper,

A black swan now redefined.

 

I gave him keys with clouded breath,

While he consumed me like a drug,

Toying with my broken mind.

I began to need him,

Until he was all that I knew,

Now I’m just a girl fumbling blind.

 

Nothing is forbidden,

Only what he chooses not to take,

Recalcitrance is politely declined.

His will is obsidian,

To which I bend and blend,

Wrapped up in his enthralling vines.

 

Bathed in his shadows,

I perform a flaming rite,

With devotion that grows in time.

In humility and gratitude,

I place my face to his feet,

A slave worshiping at her shrines.

Perhaps if his Divinity is merciful, and
grants balance, A little slave may
come back to her bruised
knees in some deeply
stark fragrant night,
And take
Dark
avenues to calm the storm, bending of
her will. A slave will kneel
down low, to the resounding
echos of soul chains,
And that long
gentle thunder,
Lingers
in her minds-eye, perpetually in the
wide starlight. Hopes that a slave
will see wholly, a limitless
twilight subjugation, to embrace
her place gracefully,
becoming fully
Owned.

ιт ωαѕ вσℓ∂ fσя уσυ тσ тαкє нєя ιи, α вяσкєи ωнσяє киσ¢кιиg σи уσυя ∂σσя αи∂ ℓσσкιиg fσя ѕσмєσиє тσ ρυт вяυιѕєѕ αℓℓ σνєя нєя ѕкιи.
ιт ωαѕ ѕιмρℓє fσя уσυ тσ fιи∂ нєя α ρℓα¢є, α ℓσѕт ℓιттℓє тнιиg, ∂єρяανιту ιѕ ωнαт ѕнє нαѕ тσ вяιиg, ωнιℓє вєggιиg уσυ тσ ωнσℓℓу ∂євαѕє.

ιт ωαѕ ∂єℓιgнтfυℓ fσя уσυ тσ тσυ¢н нєя мιи∂, α ρℓαуgяσυи∂ тнαт’ѕ ѕσ ѕιмρℓє, уєт ναgυєℓу ρяσfσυи∂, αℓωαуѕ ωяιтιиg тσ уσυ ωιтн нєя ιмρℓσяιиg янумєѕ.

I’ve been in a few dynamics but I’ve never been with a Daddy type, in fact, I avoided them. I didn’t avoid because I thought anything bad about it, I avoided because I didn’t think that being treated lovingly was something meant for me. Any man I’ve ever been with had nothing but coldness, except for one that was nice and more like a kinky best friend. I was afraid of having a Daddy because I didn’t want to get accustomed to being treated lovingly only to have it taken away, better to do without than to experience the loss. I always felt a level of jealousy of girls that had a Daddy but I’d cover it with disdain, trying to hide from myself, not admitting I wanted to be loved out of fear of that love being taken away or

never given love in the first place.

When I met my Master, he didn’t say he was a Daddy too, only a sadist ❤️‍? I do love a nice cold sadist, but I never knew that it didn’t have to be that way all the time. About three months in I made an offhand teasing comment and said that he could force me to call him Daddy. He said I wouldn’t mind you calling me Daddy, and from that moment on I was interested. I don’t really remember what happened to make me feel comfortable with it but I did start calling him Daddy, and it didn’t feel too bad at all. Not only did I start calling him Daddy but he started showing me what having a Daddy means. He showed me what being cherished, important, and unconditionally loved is. It brought out my playful side and most importantly my loving side. Today, the love between Daddy and I has become something I’ve never felt before, not even from my Father. It took Daddy months to convince me that this wasn’t a trick, and that it’s not something he gave me to take away later out of cruelty. When my abandonment issues cropped up, just about daily, he would say

“Little girl, Daddy always comes back.”

Daddy is still a sadist and I am still a masochist, and when Master comes out we play as hard as possible. Afterwards though, Daddy does come back, and Daddy makes his girl feel loved, valued, seen, and heard. I never imagined that a D/s dynamic could be so multifaceted, and I finally believe that

I’m worthy of love.

Daddy, thank you for being my shelter, thank you for allowing me to love and loving me in return. Your Ownership is whole and complete, and for the first time in my life, I’m proud to be owned. The words “I love you Daddy” in no way encompass what I feel for you. You are the air I breathe, you are the light in our dark, and

Daddy always come back.

We all have an experience or a moment in our lives that makes some deep connection or an ah-ha moment.

I am a very autonomous person. I am proud of my ability to set and maintain my own goals, beliefs, values, and boundaries. At the same time, I sought to turn those over to another. Finding a person to trust with my sense of self, my cognitive processes, and my life has been difficult. I made many mistakes and experienced failures. Eventually, I did find this person, my owner, but even so, relinquishing those things has been an intricate process for both of us that will continue to evolve. Yesterday I realized just how far we have come and how far we can go.

I tend to be easily overstimulated. Introvert, neuro-divergent, and generally annoyed by loud sounds, let’s say that a birthday party for a 12-year-old at Dave and Busters is not on my list of fun things. Of course, we parents suffer for our children, and I endured for hours.

As the third hour approached, my anxiety rose and rose to the point where I could barely keep myself from bolting for the door. I’m sure many of you who are similar to me know about bathroom trips for no reason other than to escape being overstimulated. I was hanging out in the bathroom a lot.

I texted Daddy, “I’m at max capacity overstimulation.” He replied with the simple sentence, “Breathe, my own.” Everything faded away. I was on the verge of a total meltdown, and he made it go away with one sentence. I thought, “This is what it means to be owned.”

Ownership isn’t only about the body, and it isn’t only about the mind. It is about the spirit too. He controls all of these things as he sees fit, and I am so grateful to have found someone to whom I have the confidence to give over my body, mind, and spirit. He is the caretaker of me just as I am of him. It is a cycle of trust, dedication, and love. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world, and it has just begun.

Thank you for owning this girl's entire being, Master. You are my true definition of the title.

Something I wrote to him about our journey thus far a few months ago:

You found me and gentled me, a quintessence of solace. You found me and cradled me with your shelter of love.

You took me and claimed me, a state of being. You took me and chained me with your promise of subjugation.

You saw me and knew me, a soul unveiled. You whitewashed me and purified me with your virtuoso’s hands.

You coax me and illuminate me, a map of eternity. You molded me and shaped me with your cartographer’s knowledge.

You own me and consecrate me, a kept possession. You engulf me and still me with your Elysian domination.

…and when I bleed

      your secret name….

            it lingers like libidinous

                     snow~

….echoing metallic euphoria

                intertwined with pain…

                    held rapt by

                         soliloquy~

I’m coming to the conclusion that this body is in collusion with a darkly sadistic mind.

I’m perpetually on my knees with a cunt that sweetly aches for his tease and depraved cravings that strike me blind.

I’m covered in skin that itches for his owners mark as he plays me like a delicate harp, my life purpose he has now reassigned.

I’m the culmination of his diabolical celebration blithely laid out as a sacrificial soul to be eternally tightly confined.

I’m desperately grateful to submit, it’s my will that I forfeit to my sadistic owner as his slave that he has cleverly defined.