Come into the Recesses of my Mind

I have sat by streams, watching the water slowly trickle around a smooth shaped rock, something at one time that was probably foreign to its surroundings. As time continued the water slowly erodes away the rough edges, slowly smoothes out the hard surface until it became part of the picturesque image, until it became a part of the stream. It’s natural, and if you stare long enough you can see the beauty of such a simple process, almost transcendual in its appearance. The water flows freely, calmly, it is smooth in comparison to the ravaging water of an ocean that crashes against a shoreline of rocks, that slowly breaks away pieces over time until there is nothing left but little crystals of sand.

The pain was indescribable; words could never give credence to what I was feeling. My only outlet was to press my nails into the palms oh my hands, and my eyes blinking furiously trying to assimilate what I was feeling with what was reality and what had become fiction in my life. My breasts were traced with a light sheen of sweat as they rose and fell quickly to short, quiet breathes. I think if anyone caught a quick glance of this image, they would see a delicate beauty, but in truth it was so ambiguously disdainful, many would quickly turn away, thinking they had glimpsed something obscene.

I had to fight back the bile in my throat as my mind filled with thoughts, sarcasm, remembering all those who I had known in the past who were so self righteous in their beliefs that something like this could never happen to them. One wrong turn, one incorrect choice and ones life could change from heaven to hell. What sanity I had left, I held deep within me for my own self-preservation.

I felt a hand roughly slide through my hair, my head moving easily to the guiding force of him as it was wrenched into the position he desired. His breath, warm and comforting almost felt like a midsummer night’s warm breeze against my neck. Feeling the soft touch of his hands around my trembling wrists as he let the leather slowly release its tension from me, and I slipped to my weakened knees.

If one watches a newborn kitten searching for its mother’s bosom for comfort, for nourishment, one may have perceived me the same way, my lips searching out for his boots. It was almost a natural instinct; I inched toward the faint aroma of the leather and hungrily pressed my lips against the smooth surface, another peaceful surge raced through me.

There is no need to vocalize the words he spoke; all had the same effect on me. To me it was almost like the sound the sweet cooing of a mother to her newborn, something she had created, and something that was hers. Oh yes, it was still its own entity and would be more so each day, but for the moment it was totally reliant on another. In comparison with me, with each movement of the hand of a clock, I was becoming an artistic image of what he desired.

My name is unimportant; it no longer belongs to me. Who I am is no longer important, value only being associated with how pleasing I can be to him, my owner, my Master, my demigod. What may be of importance is the path that I followed, the path I traversed to become nothing more then a piece of property owned by another human being. Consensual slavery, that's the name it is given, but I know deep within my soul it stopped being consensual a long time ago.

When I felt the warmth of his lips pressing to the small indentation of my neck, and the sensations that raced through my body, pulsated through my veins, could only be compared to an ethereal state. Every sense coming alive, every nerve taking on a life of its own. I was free in some senses, but that was probably only in my own perspective. What others thought was no longer important. Only one person mattered now, and anything he desired took precedent over any wish I may have ever had, or will have.

I will give one warning to those who are not content in their lives, those who at times feel they seek something else to be gratified. . Reading my words may stir within you something you did not know existed and be careful for what you yearn for, you may just get it.

Come into the recesses of my mind, as you turn each page, a new story is told, one of darkness and light, one of following a path in self-discovery.