Reverence of The Marks & Symbols of Ownership

I spoke of Faith. Now…I’ll kneel to Reverence. Our first date. I stood calmly in His bedroom. Still. Waiting. A lioness’ instinctive understanding short-circuited my usual primal sexual aggression. I knew this man before I knew Him. Though desire and need raged through my veins, my lioness lowered her head in acquiescence to a Power she had known before time began and been searching for this entire lifetime. I waited. Utterly defenseless. To see how He would move. To see what He would want of me. To see which direction He would Lead us. He shifted behind me in the dim light. His first touch. A bold unmistakable Claim. With a deliberate slowness that seemed to last eternity, His fingers dug into my biceps as His teeth sank into my tender flesh where neck meets shoulder. My body gave into His strength. My mind let go of logic. My heart and soul gratefully surrendered to His Demand. I will always feel the echoes of the Marks He gave me in that moment. That was only the beginning. With ...

My Sacred

At my soul...at my very foundation and root is M/s.
"The things which are sacred or precious to us are the things we withdraw from promiscuous sharing."
~Howard Roark, The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand
Sacred | ˈsākrid |
adjective  regarded with great respect and reverence by a particular religion, group, or individual
The Dominance of Owner.
The submission of property
The Power/Authority Exchange.
Simply sacred.

M/s entwines itself across every core element.
Of my existence.
And delves so deeply into my soul.
I will not.
Cannot.
Promiscuously share.
Sacred.

My sacred...
Is not a kinky game.
Or haphazard wrapper.
Or just spicy sex.
It's not pretend.
Or a mirage.
Or a costume.
Or part-time.
Submissive property.
Is who and what I am.
Even if I'm simply waiting.

To be Owned.
Claimed
Treasured.
Led.
Sacred.

To serve.
To please.
To be used.
To support, encourage, guard, protect, love, ADORE.
To give...
All the best I have.
To believe...
In Him.
My sacred.

The comforting feel.
The safe presence.
The cherished touch.
A direct order.
Protocols and rituals.
Punishment.
The blessed fucking pain.
The nurturing.
The guidance and direction.
Of my Dominant Man...
My sacred.

His Dominance...
Settles me like nothing else.
Under its weight
My mind
My heart
My body
Every fucking thing I am
Can find peace.
Rest.
Give In...
To Him.
That magic.
It is the only thing that has ever stilled me.
Sacred.

I seek the...
Tranquility at His feet.
Hope in His leadership.
Faith in His protection.
And my submission and loyalty...
Will become an endless ocean.
He controls
With the flick of His hand.
A growl from His throat.
My sacred.

This...existence.
Under Him.
That clear, unwavering point of reference.
To dedicate myself.
A shining beacon
To begin from.
To return to.
That mental, emotional, physical space we create.
Becomes my Sanctuary.
Where I practice my Religion.
Where I can breathe freely.
Where I can be myself.
Where I belong.
My sacred.
~DominaKat

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