A Dom(me) needs his/her sub as much as a sub needs a Dom(me)
If I simply knelt at your feet, humble, quiescent?
No fanfare, no fight, no brat, no personality
Not whole, not broken,
not any of those things which seek to beguile.
“You’d be bored if I just gave in” I say, waiting, gauging.
But I already know your response.
So I fight, I brat, my personality comes to the fore.
What starts as a dance becomes a game, becomes a fight,
and ultimately becomes frustration.
And within that I’m suddenly lost.
No direction, adrift, no anchor to cling to.
A submissive left to her own devices
to self destruct.
Such a romantic notion of angst and maelstrom.
Wild and untamed.
Battered, bruised, the reality is far less enchanting.
I cannot always fight,
I cannot always be what it is I think you wish me to…
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