I had walked away from attempting to write a blog post, when standing in my living room, I had one of those little epiphany things.
For the first time, I realized how huge slavery is in my life.
It has become so deeply insinuated into who I am, that there are times I have actually thought it wasn't there.
Because slavery is so much more than my image of it implied.
Have no doubt, my fantasy of slavery is hot
it is me on my knees begging to please
it is all those things that turn me on
it is surrender of flesh, mind, and soul,
it is dangerous and sweet
it is achingly and painfully, exquisite beyond belief.
Some days, that is the form slavery takes.
But it couldn't really take that form if not for all those little moments every day. Moments which create the space for that fantasy to make appearances in reality.
M/s is in the food I cook, the condition I keep the house, the choices I make, and the way I keep my hair.
M/s exists in the way he strokes my face, the tone of his voice when he speaks to me, the intent behind each touch of his hand, and the day-to-day life that we live.
Ms winds beneath the surface of all that we are like a river--always nourishing even when it flows unseen below the earth.
And some days, M/s prompts insane urges to please that incite unreasonable behavior. Like attempting to make crepes in a pan that has no handle...It might work...