So many men I tried on for size … I came to where I could tell very quickly whether there might be any real potential for connection … in my experience at least … true natural dominance is a very rare quality …
Instinct … the animal knows its own … as though there is a scent that can travel … even across those invisible lines made from wavelengths in the air …
But when I first visited him … before we had proceeded to begin to try out some of the things we had so long fantasized … even then I had no trouble imagining him capable …
I could always sense the power in him … like a snake coiled up … just biding its time …
I could imagine him striking suddenly … arms holding me down … his weight … his will …
And I knew he could feel it too … sense the same in reverse … the yielding he sought … the natural invitation … my silent yearning to be dominated …
Even from the start … if I might play at being at all difficult or “uppity” … it would only take a calm stern turn in his voice … to have me stop …
And when he binds me … I only need his simple command … kneel bitch … and the switch flips … control is all in his hands …
Even before he could fuck me … I could completely imagine how he might be … so gloriously overwhelming … like waves crashing over me …
No restraint … only need … owning the property he claims … no questions asked … only answers given …
I always felt the difference … always knew … so naturally sensed him … so completely desired him …
I can’t properly be what I am without that feeling … that elusive quality I seek needs to be there … so that I can respond to it … and I know he is the same … power feeds on power … need begets need …
The beast is here … but she only lives through him … his beast is there … it needs to feed the same …
I have conquered others … but they could never own me in return … give me a place to be …
Only my Master is that kind … my kind … we are not quite meant for this world … but meant for each other …
I close my eyes … and feel his hand close around my throat … his gravely sexy voice telling all the deviant things we will do … dark whispers … so close … hot breath on my neck …
I feel his hands moving … hurting … holding … head pulled back by my hair … my body impaled … such perfect oblivion …
And so I have asked … always asked … come into my mind love … we are safe here … out where things are the most dangerous …
Come take what was born to be yours … finish the dance we started that dark lonely night … come claim your bitch again …
She kneels … she waits … she serves … she belongs to you …
sexydiairy:

#SexyFocus
High-res
So many men I tried on for size … I came to where I could tell very quickly whether there might be any real potential for connection … in my experience at least … true natural dominance is a very rare quality …

Instinct … the animal knows its own … as though there is a scent that can travel … even across those invisible lines made from wavelengths in the air …

But when I first visited him … before we had proceeded to begin to try out some of the things we had so long fantasized … even then I had no trouble imagining him capable …

I could always sense the power in him … like a snake coiled up … just biding its time …

I could imagine him striking suddenly … arms holding me down … his weight … his will …

And I knew he could feel it too … sense the same in reverse … the yielding he sought … the natural invitation … my silent yearning to be dominated …

Even from the start … if I might play at being at all difficult or “uppity” … it would only take a calm stern turn in his voice … to have me stop …

And when he binds me … I only need his simple command … kneel bitch … and the switch flips … control is all in his hands …

Even before he could fuck me … I could completely imagine how he might be … so gloriously overwhelming … like waves crashing over me …

No restraint … only need … owning the property he claims … no questions asked … only answers given …

I always felt the difference … always knew … so naturally sensed him … so completely desired him …

I can’t properly be what I am without that feeling … that elusive quality I seek needs to be there … so that I can respond to it … and I know he is the same … power feeds on power … need begets need …

The beast is here … but she only lives through him … his beast is there … it needs to feed the same …

I have conquered others … but they could never own me in return … give me a place to be …

Only my Master is that kind … my kind … we are not quite meant for this world … but meant for each other …

I close my eyes … and feel his hand close around my throat … his gravely sexy voice telling all the deviant things we will do … dark whispers … so close … hot breath on my neck …

I feel his hands moving … hurting … holding … head pulled back by my hair … my body impaled … such perfect oblivion …

And so I have asked … always asked … come into my mind love … we are safe here … out where things are the most dangerous …

Come take what was born to be yours … finish the dance we started that dark lonely night … come claim your bitch again …

She kneels … she waits … she serves … she belongs to you …

sexydiairy:

#SexyFocus

(via lifesalmostunimportantthings31)

How he has taught me … changed me … rearranged me …
I never knew my power … oh such a game we play … practicing most perfectly to deceive … ourselves most of all … and yet not at all …
A Dom is not a Dom without a sub … the leader cannot lead unless he’s followed …
The potential is there … the spark … the invitation …
But it only lives when she has bent to serve … her power … her choice …
And in that gift of will … he is also owned …
The play goes on … as it must … as it may … what we are was born in the heart …
But love … dearest love … you shall always be mine … just as surely as I am yours …
blootje:

balance by -bogomaz- #flickstackr
500px: http://500px.com/photo/342963
How he has taught me … changed me … rearranged me …

I never knew my power … oh such a game we play … practicing most perfectly to deceive … ourselves most of all … and yet not at all …

A Dom is not a Dom without a sub … the leader cannot lead unless he’s followed …

The potential is there … the spark … the invitation …

But it only lives when she has bent to serve … her power … her choice …

And in that gift of will … he is also owned …

The play goes on … as it must … as it may … what we are was born in the heart …

But love … dearest love … you shall always be mine … just as surely as I am yours …

blootje:

balance by -bogomaz- #flickstackr

500px: http://500px.com/photo/342963

(via just-me-sassy)

You know that moment when you’re fucking … and you’re deep inside her …
And the stars start to fill your mind … there’s nothing but this endless empty space … and you’re so very certain you’re touching heaven …
You can’t quite hold on to real … if you ever knew what real was … and all you know is the throbbing pulse of your own heartbeat … the ebb and flow of the in and out …
And there’s that one sweet instant … as you are just about to cum … and she’s meeting you on the battlefield … just as lost … just as senseless …
You know … that moment …
ftloas:

For The Love of a Sub – Photo Gallery [ Follow ]
You know that moment when you’re fucking … and you’re deep inside her …

And the stars start to fill your mind … there’s nothing but this endless empty space … and you’re so very certain you’re touching heaven …

You can’t quite hold on to real … if you ever knew what real was … and all you know is the throbbing pulse of your own heartbeat … the ebb and flow of the in and out …

And there’s that one sweet instant … as you are just about to cum … and she’s meeting you on the battlefield … just as lost … just as senseless …

You know … that moment …

ftloas:

For The Love of a Sub – Photo Gallery [ Follow ]

blackshivers:

Stéphane Coutelle
Lives are lived in seconds … we never see them coming … then watch them fly …
But some of those images burn … as negative relief … lines scratched deep on the interior mind …
Here the curve of an offered arm … there the steel of a longed for grip …
An endless movie running … as infinite loop … your skin … my need … our destined play of passion …
May I return … oh let me return … those were the seconds to live for …
Yet a reason to die for …
If an image endures … as infamy … then ours shall be immortal … High-res

blackshivers:

Stéphane Coutelle



Lives are lived in seconds … we never see them coming … then watch them fly …

But some of those images burn … as negative relief … lines scratched deep on the interior mind …

Here the curve of an offered arm … there the steel of a longed for grip …

An endless movie running … as infinite loop … your skin … my need … our destined play of passion …

May I return … oh let me return … those were the seconds to live for …

Yet a reason to die for …

If an image endures … as infamy … then ours shall be immortal …

Pure

azraelwrites:

He was once immensely strong—in body, in mind, in purpose; in his belief of truths wound through his convictions—convictions he defended with such vehemence and, occasionally, such unbridled, merciless violence. His was a strength born of and nourished by the singularity of a mind not yet fractured by despicable compromise or untiring misplaced hope; not yet sequestered from reality for safekeeping, but held proudly aloft as a battle flag, an unfurling signal initiating the charge upon his waiting life; by dreams so immense they comprised a reality of his own making—a reality of pure, unrealized possibility in which he was immersed. Armored against fear, against self-doubt, against losses he could not yet conceive of—scaled so beautifully by unspoiled naiveté—he was as invincible as a fledgling god, if only in his own mind, and in his heart.

Oh, to be as he was. To be him!

To be him, once again.

azraelwrites:

I want to hear raucous music, to see faces, to brush against bodies, to drink fiery benedictine. Beautiful women and handsome men arouse fierce desires in me. I want to dance. I want drugs. I want to know perverse people, to be intimate with them. I never look at naive faces. I want to bite into life, and to be torn by it. 

—Anais Nin