Tracysub - Kneeling Is Feeling

I assume this is what you long for?

Be gracious, always.

Verse 1

Now I've heard there was a secret chord

That David played, and it pleased the Lord

But you don't really care for music, do you?

It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth

The minor fall, the major lift

The baffled king composing "Hallelujah"

Verse 4

There was a time you let me know

What's really going on below

But now you never show it to me, do you?

And remember when I moved in you

The holy dove was moving too

And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

#broken hallelujah

silence

Owners; you broke it, you buy it.

I want you to remember.

It’s not when we’re impressive. It’s not when we’re obedient. It’s not when you swell with pride. It’s not when we are deliciously dumb. It’s not when you’ve beaten us into sub space. It’s not when you marvel at what you created. It’s not when you’re aroused. It’s not when you’re adoring, loving, giving, possessive, intoxicated, sadistic, generous, satisfied, playful.

Understand. It’s not when you’re happy.

It’s when the furrow in your brow is so deep we can’t possibly understand what we could have done to put such a canyon of disappointment there. It’s when your tone changes, when you clip your words with the same knives that snag our confidence. It’s when your lip curls and we watch your face contort into a bitter discontent that we taste more keenly than you do. It’s when your eyes don’t smile; leaving us clutching for the parts of ourselves you said we didn’t need anymore. It’s when you sigh until we feel too difficult to be loved.

Your encouragement of our idolisation. Your slow replacement of our self affirmation with yours. It has consequences. So own the impact of your disappointment upon the person(s) who pledged their choices, their life and their liberty to you.

Take responsibility for what results from fundamentally changing someone to be hypersensitive to your mood. And then remember what that means all-the-fucking-time. Tattoo it into your thoughts. Hold it at the forefront of your mind when you’re expressing displeasure.

Punishment(s) of some kind might be required, but be considerate of the person you trained to prioritise your happiness.

I’m bored of reading posts from submissives who feel like utter shit for trivial crap like not washing up properly.

“No Thinking. Just Feeling.”

—

“Some of the greatest battles will be fought within the silent chambers of your own soul.”

— Anonymous  (via wnq-anonymous)

She shouldn’t want this, she knew that. But if this was just a matter of want then she wouldn’t be here. No, she needed this. She had fantasized about being bound and completely at a man’s mercy more times than she could possibly count. But if she was honest with herself, it went much deeper than that. She didn’t just want to be played with, she wanted to be owned. Completely.

She thought about it constantly. At work, with friends, it didn’t matter where she was, that untamed need constantly clawed at her from the shadows of her mind, consuming her slowly for years. And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried. She had asked guys to tie her up and fuck her, do things to her body, but the fact that she had to ask took most of the fun out of it. It was as if she had an addiction to a drug she’d never tried. She was chasing a high that she had never truly tasted. This wasn’t a need that could be filled by just any man.

But he was not just any man. He commanded respect without ever speaking a word. He terrified her to the point of trembling without ever making a threat. The fact that she had let him bind and blindfold her only heightened that terror. There was nothing she could do to defend herself now, he could do whatever he wanted. But by the way her wetness began to drip down her thighs, she knew this was exactly what she wanted.

“Who do you belong to?” His commanding voice brought her out of her thoughts. She hesitated for just a moment before he yanked sharply on her chain.

“You, Sir!”

He grabbed her face roughly by the cheeks. “Next time I ask you a question,” he growled in her ear, “you will not hesitate when you answer me.” He squeezed her cheeks hard before asking “Is that understood, Pet.”

“Yes, Sir!” She cried out, nodding her head in agreement. She was trembling so much the chain around her neck was rattling.

“Good girl.” He said, before playfully slapping her on the cheek for good measure. The pleasure of hearing him say those words, mixed with the sting of his slap made her moan. He gave a satisfied chuckle at her reaction. “Now open up that pretty mouth and show your Master what a good girl you can really be.”