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In his arms is my safe place
At his feet, between his legs I feel so submissive
His deep voice beacons me
I get lost in our deep consuming kisses
Red imprints heat my skin marked by large hands
My room smells of his intoxicating scent
Tangled bed sheets covered in sweat and cum
Floggers and toys covered the dresser
Bondage ties around the four bed posts
If walls could talk…

I'm back. Again. It's been a loooong journey since the first posts in 2008 when I was first admitting to myself I wanted to be submissive. 8 years of a relationship, 5 of those married, have finally come to an end. Lots learned, but the most important is that I cannot give up myself for someone else. There's a major difference to enjoying submission and being walked upon.

She never became the Domme I wanted. She wasn't able to fully admit to herself what she wanted. And so I went ...

Someday I’ll try again to find a Dom. But what if he’s not out there? What if “My Mr. Perfect” doesn’t exist?

I thought I found it this time, I thought it was going so well. Long phone conversations, texting every day, amazing sex, deep mental and emotional connection. We even had fun together, laughed during sex, lazy time spent resting in his arms or on the couch talking with our feet meeting in the middle. Everything was so easy. Except one critical ...

Just to lay some questions and fears to rest, I have not left the library and I have not simply disappeared.

In a previous blog I spoke of redirecting and refocusing my energies and my goals. That is what I have been doing.

More than anything, I have been writing. I set a goal to spend at least 4 hours each day at some writing goal or project. I have mostly been able to meet this goal. I have several new projects in place as well as the old projects that are ...

It has been a while now. The habit of looking for your messages has lessened….if only a little. I have reconciled with the fact that you will no longer answer my calls. The desperation has subsided to longing. I have refused to look at your words for several weeks now…if only for self-preservation. No more do I write to you daily, filling your inbox with sorrow and anger that will one day be deleted by some automated demon…unread.

But I still hear your voice….sometimes a whisper…other ...

Once upon a time…
But no more is he mine
His lies made me cry
Does it come easy to him?

I gave myself to him
Blindly
I thought I was his
He whispered he was mine

The nights are silent now
Reality settles in on me
It feels as if I’m under water
Slowly floating up

I’m so tired

Here I stand at the precipice of what will always be. Your words are stones in my heart, weighing heavy…but it has become an accepted burden…one I will never part with. You are not here, but I know what you expected of me…what you told me to do…and I have finally resigned myself to the accomplishment of the purpose you had in mind. Although it was intended to be for both of us in the flesh, the substance of what is spirit will have to do.

The chains are still strong, my Dragon…shining ...

I am Haunted by something i have done. When i first started on this site, I had other submissive friends who were either lonely or heartbroken by their Masters/Mistresses. They asked me to Dominate them. Instead of being true to my self, I thought it would be Okay. Within a few weeks a had a sub of my own. I was selfish and my main Focus was finding Sir's to play with me online. They expected to use her too. Most were decent but i allowed a few to abuse her. I did not protect her as i should ...

I'm Not Gonna Stop, one of the poems of "Raibeart Bruis." The pseudonym translates as "Robert the Bruce," the 14th century Scottish king who earned Scotland's independence from England. (A gift that his son could not preserve.)

Because you ask
Because you beg
bargain
plead
or cry

I’m not gonna stop
because you sweat
Because you scream
groan
grovel
obey
or resist

...