I find pleasure, joy, and fulfillment from being submissive to another in a loving relationship.
I am not weak, or stupid. I am a strong woman, with firm views and a clear concept of what I want out of my life.
I do not serve out of shame or weakness, but out of pride and strength.
I look to my loving Master for guidance and protection, for never am I more complete than when he is with me.
I know that he will protect my body, my mind, and my soul with his strength and wisdom.
He is everything to me, as I am everything to him. His touch awakens me and his thoughts free me.
Only in serving him do I find complete freedom and joy.
His punishments are harsh, but I accept them thankfully, knowing that he has my bests interests always foremost in his mind.
If he desires my body for pleasure, I shall joyfully give it to him, and take pleasure myself from knowing that I have brought him happiness.
However, the pleasure of the flesh is but one facet of any relationship.
The love, the trust and sharing, the words spoken and felt, those are all parts of this relationship.
My body is his, and if he says I am beautiful, then I am.
No matter what I look like to others, I am beautiful in his eyes, and because of that I hold my head high… …for who can tell me that my Master is wrong in seeing the beauty in me?
If he says I am his princess, then I am that…regal and graceful.
And if I see laughter at me in the eyes of others, I do not recognize it, for who are they to call my Master wrong?
If he says I am his toy, his slut, his tramp, then I am that…as wanton and dirty as he wants me to be, and if others do not see this, then it is they who are blind, not my Master.
My mind is his, to expand, to explore, to know as only he can. I have no secrets from him…for secrets are a thing that would keep me from being more perfectly his.
Secrets would put a wall up between my Master and myself…and I do not want walls.
His lessons are not always ones I would seek on my own, but they are lessons he has decided I need, and so I learn from him.
My soul is his, as bare to his touch as ever my skin could be when I kneel naked at his feet.
Never a moment goes by when I do not feel his presence, be he miles away or standing over me.
If I were to ever displease him, his displeasure would be a blow to my soul, worse punishment than any lashes could be.
The anguish of my soul that I feel when I disappoint him is harder to bear than the physical anguish I feel when his belt caresses me with fire.
I spend my days knowing that the energy and thought he puts into our relationship is as much for my benefit as for his, and look forward to each lovingly crafted scene that we do together.
His part is much harder than mine, and I know this and am grateful that he cares enough about me to spend his time and energy so freely on me.
I have the easier job: to feel, to experience, to let myself go and abandon everything to him.
I am his pleasure and his responsibility, and he takes both seriously. I am a submissive woman. I am proud to call myself that.
My submission is a gift that I do not give lightly, and can only be given to one who can appreciate that gift and return it tenfold.
Only to he who has that strength will I give myself fully, because I am strong and proud.
I am a submissive woman.