As soon as you walk through that door, your clothes come off boy, and with them your mask comes off too, the mask you wear everyday at work and that makes everyone believe you’re a strong, dominant man.
As soon as you walk through that door you’re mine, my precious boy, my little slut, my toy to use however I want, my little servant who will do anything to please me, my caged, denied little pet.
How does it feel to walk around all day hiding it, without anyone knowing what you really are? It must be exhausting, sweet boy.
It’s okay now, you can stop pretending. I’m here and I’ll take control of you.
On your knees, pet.
This writing speaks to me in ways I cannot even describe.
I often walk through the day feeling like I am hiding an important part of myself. I try to find ways to let the submissive side of me show. Finding ways to please and help others for example.
But no matter what I do, I am not fully me. It’s only those moments when I can physically shed my clothes and metaphorically shed the societal pressure and judgment and be open with the person I will serve that I am fully me, and more importantly fully hers. Thank you @lavenderbutts for beautifully capturing those feelings
Carnavalesque 