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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Before I Rise

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I am tired.  The last few weeks—hell, the last few months—have cracked open my shell, crumbled walls, unlocked doors, and shed light on new untraveled paths.  

At the moment, I am fucking raw.  Like a newborn whose skin is soft and tender and delicate.

The only thing I want.
The only thing I need.
The only thing my instincts scream for...

Is to kneel quietly, rest my head at the feet, and utterly surrender to an Owner's hand in my hair and grip at the back of my neck.

Tomorrow, my lioness will rise once more, but tonight...that would be everything.
~DominaKat

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