Laila

Once again I am without a Master - which is so much a lifestyle way of saying 'alone' that it makes me recoil.

In a way it was a longer process to loose him than it was to attain that rare and wonderful, mythical thing - a Master, one that fits, one that makes my fantasies soar.
When I felt his interest waning, being replaced by some inner demons and outer ones and inwardly turned thoughts - I wanted to stick with him. I was so used to waiting for him, that it seemed like the most natural state of our relationship.
I accepted that he was only my Master in my head, in my memories anymore. I accepted to wait - but somehow, like from a leaking pot, it all just drained out of me - all my love leaked out of me. And the effort of holding up the idea and the hope exhausted me.

The first step was to take off his anklet - that was the hardest. I didn't tell him - half because I knew that he wouldn't object and half because it felt so pathetically like an ultimatum, like blackmail.
I told him a few days later when he called and - as I thought he would - he didn't, he understood. (Oh how much would I have given for him to be angry, or upset, or to tell me to put it back on...)
Some more time passed without any interest on his part, with promises that weren't kept and miserable days of waiting and making myself not call him.
Part of me realized that the only reason, I hadn't told him I had enough yet was Christmas. That luminous hope, that somehow spending it together would make everything ok. And if not ok then would at least be one last time - together - even though I think I already knew somehow that it wasn't gonna happen.

Step 2 was apparently (and I am only a little ashamed) to spend the night with someone else. I was drunk - we didn't have sex, but we might as well have, it was intimate enough. When my eyes were closed, I thought of my Master, how he felt different, how I missed him. And how he failed me again and again. And in the end I gave in and enjoyed it for what it was.

Step 3 was to call it off. Although technically there wasn't much left to be called off.

Step 4 - and I am not looking forward to this - is Christmas without him.


Truth is, it took me a week to start crying. At first all I felt was lucky and well shot of this weight. Now, although still don't miss him, the person that he is, I acutely miss the idea of him and me. I miss my idea of our future and the idea of our new and incredible love-making. I also miss what we were before all this, the friends without that baggage.


I don't feel very submissive these days - its back to that feeling that I know so well. The longing for submission without a vessel to bestow it on. I still cannot submit without loving and I don't want to learn.

And I am beginning to hate the association of slut and submissive. I am not a slut and even though I might enjoy to be treated like one in the bedroom or even called one in the right circumstances... I hate the association.
I am tired, exhausted of just being someone to have sex with - I, too, want to courted. I want to be loved and revered and held so dear that a day without me is a bit of a waisted one I want to be cradled and safe so that I can place all my love in the palm of their hand and myself at their feet.
I want to be loved with the same intensity that I have the potential to love.