In Tatters

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I knelt at His feet in the utter mess I’d made. My struggle to succeed was stark. No one had ever seen me so disheveled…in such embarrassing circumstances. As He cleaned me up for the second time two minutes, I looked up to meet His steady gaze and tried to gauge his reaction. Disgust at another disastrous, completely unimpressive act of service? Frustrated at my inability to get it together? Sadistically amused at another ridiculous unglamorous predicament I’d once again found myself in? I knew he was taking in every fucking minute detail of the wreck before Him and squirreling it away in the vault of His mind, but what did He feel? His stoic expression offered me no hint. Without comment He stood firm in front of me. Fuckin unwavering. He hadn’t walked away. He hadn’t stepped back. I swear He may have even leaned in. As soon as I’d semi-collected myself, I began my third attempt even as I tried in vain to push the remaining proof of my ineptitude out of view, hoping it would simply
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The Beauty of Submission

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To feel vulnerable under the Weight of His Strength.
To give freely when He Takes.
To fight by His Side.
To serve His Demands.

Submission...

To surrender beneath the Comfort of Competent Authority.
To rely on Consistency and trust in Follow Through.
To ache for His Approval.
To obey His Instructions.

Submission...

To be wanted at His Feet.
To bask in His Attention.
To be used on my knees as He Sates His Pleasure.
To anticipate and fulfill His Needs.

Submission...

To bloom and grow under His Nurturing.
To work toward His goals.
To follow His Direction.
To believe in His Leadership.

Submission...

There is nothing in the world that makes more sense or is more beautiful to me than M/s.  To simply witness it warms my soul and fends off the cold chill of winter.
~DominaKat

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