Beginning something new is always difficult. It's always more complicated than you first anticipate, and the final results are rarely what you thought they would be when you began.
A good Master loves his pets. He keeps their best interest at the forefront of his mind at all times. He does what needs to be done for them, and does everything that can be done to ensure that they have what they need before, during, and after. I understand this.
I understand because I was once the pet. I was trained by one who understood, for she had been trained. A true Master must understand his submissive. He must be able to empathize with the pain and the inescapable need to release it. He has to understand when to push harder, to increase the pressure, and when Enough is Enough.
We all cary wounds with us. When Mistress saw my wound, she took me under her wings and taught me. She cleaned the wound with pain and fire and water. It was excruciating at first. She taught me to embrace the pain. To make it mine. She trained me for three years. She pushed my limits. She took me out of my comfort zone, kicking and screaming the whole way, and when I started to get comfortable she brought it up a notch, again and again and again. I remember her voice whispering in my ear... completely sincere... "I love you, but this is going to hurt..."
Then she taught me to train another. She guided me from the shadows. She steadied my hands when they shook from the anticipation. She built up my confidence. She watched and advised.
She had torn me down only to rebuild me.
Then one day I realized she was gone. She never even told me her name.
That was over ten years ago. I have been the Master ever since.
One more time I'll say it, maybe for the last time, because now things inside me have changed and I'm beginning another new chapter in my life...
"Thank you Mistress for training me."
