Submissive Heartbeat

I want Her to feel sexy I want Her to feel wanted I want Her to be celebrated I want Her to want to be touched I want to brush Her hair I want to rub Her feet I want to see Her excitement I want to taste Her I want to smell Her I want to feel Her body soften when I put my hands on Her I want to hear the first breath that gives Her away I want to kiss Her slowly enough that She forgets what She was worried about I want to make Her feel beautiful before I ever make Her feel exposed I want my mouth on the places She has missed being worshipped I want my hands learning Her again like prayer I want to feel Her hips answer before Her words do I want Her fingers in my hair because She has stopped pretending She does not need this I want to kneel between desire and devotion I want to taste the proof that She wants me there I want to take my time until patience feels obscene I want to make Her greedy for touch I want to make Her remember the power of being adored without apology I want Her wet ...

I want to be taught by a language stricter than speech. Where your praise is my permission. Where my pain is your proof. Where silence becomes surrender. I find comfort in command. Calm in control. Care in correction. Make discipline my devotion. Restraint my relief. Obedience my offering. Submission is my sanctuary. My safety. Make your hands my home .

  Distance from her is like floating untethered from what grounds me. When I’m away from Her I don’t lose my submissive edge. I gain it. It burgeons. It blossoms in silence. It aches in my chest when I wake up, haunts me throughout the day and perches low and heavy in my belly at night. It becomes the reminder that I’m not whole when I’m not under Her sway. There’s this hollow pain to it. Not weakling insecurity quite, but more resignation without an outlet. Desire with no fulfillment because the one who can fulfill it isn’t there. I can go about my day. I can talk. I can decide. But underneath it all there’s this humming: I want to be grounded again. I want to be reminded. I want to be told my place in Her world. My body knows She owns me before my brain can even begin to articulate it. I want to hear Her voice. I want to know what She'll expect of me. I want to be undone by knowing She's there and there is no pretense that I can run my own life. I feel too vulnerable to my ow...