"Welcome to the Darkside. We have cookies."

Monday, July 28, 2008

The collars of the moonshine's watery beams

Aye, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar. IT was a lording's daughter, the fairest one of three, that liked of her master as well as well might be, till looking on an Englishman, the fair'st that eye could see, Her fancy fell a-turning.
The expense of spirit in a waste of shame. Is lust in action; and till action, lust. Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame, savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust, enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight, past reason hunted, and no sooner had. Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait. On purpose laid to make the taker mad; mad in pursuit and in possession so; had, having, and in quest to have, extreme; a bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe; before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream. All this the world well knows; yet none knows well to shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.
To be collared or to give over as a Slave submitting everything chattle, soul and body. I chose the latter of these, the collar only there as a set reminder as to who owns me. All of me. He is allowed to "...help Himself.." to quote Him as He sees fit. I relish to complete His whims, desires and cravings. "...is this wrong?" I have asked myself this. I have come to the delving conclusion that no, t'is not. I am treated with the upmost of respect, honour and love. So why would I opt for anything else but. I worship the ground He walks on fully, truly and madly. If He so requests that I lay spread upon the bed aching for His attention, no matter what it be. A gentle kiss, caress; or even a tweaking pinch or the harsh slap of the belt. I have never felt so completed as I serve that of my Master, my Love...My One....


Will said...

You are a wordsmith of the highest order; a submissive love, bold as brick...

..a red lust,

with, love.

D'jierke (The One) said...

Just like there cannot be black without white, no thunder without lightning, no songs without birds. You fell into my life to fill in the missing space in this soul cracked like a jigsaw puzzle.
A picture paints a thousand words it is said. The red welts on the canvas of your skill is a million tiny pricks of my love for you. In the absence of a collar My Precious, my hands fit around your throat as they were made to be.
I remain forever,
Your One

Anonymous said...

Beautiful post.

That's Life

That's Life

The Master Of Her Domain

The Master Of Her Domain
There is One for everyone. The Master of my Domain is the axis in which my world spins. There shall only be but One. Among men and women, those in love do not always announce themselves with declarations and vows. But they are the ones who weep when you're gone. Who miss you every single night, especially when the sky is so deep and beautiful, and the ground so very cold......