i'm not quite sure how to handle this
this 9 weeks of suspended animation.
it was my idea, i plead guilty to that,
but in desperation. anything to
postpone the looming break.
he couldn't deal with distraction,
he said. he couldn't deal with
weeping, he said. he couldn't
spare the attention, he said.
so fine. the perfect submissive,
i'll give you what you need.
go. retire to your monk's cell,
illuminate your dissertation.
but what about me? my mood swings,
i said, i'll get a handle on my
mood swings, a ruthless dom
prowling the dark halls of my soul.
but that's not a full time job.
not like writing a dissertation.
what do i do? what do i do with
my grief? what do i do with
the void? what do i do with
the artifacts of whatever it was
we had? put them in cold storage?
the paper clip chain lives stubbornly
around my ankle, but i'm giving up
pink panties for the duration. i think
i'll retire the little slave kitten earrings.
the dog collar, the leash, they can join
his boxer briefs and sox, the little white
apron, the nipple bells, in their
designated drawer. but his toothbrush?
of all things, that is making me cry...
the toothbrush he left here at the end of
his very first visit, 11 months ago.
his toothbrush, facing mine, the
last self-deluding sign of
i don't eat much now. not a bad thing.
i exercised today. if he takes me back
i don't want to look like i
let myself go. but still
the pain. i need
endorphins. and i'm confused.
i put up a profile on alt.com.
not sure why. i just want someone to
excite me. i need the
endorphins. i suppose i'm stockpiling
in case this pause is really the end.
i want to believe...
it's hard to believe...
i need to feel wanted
i need to talk to him
i need his advice
i need to hear his voice
i need his words
what are you wearing, kitten?
take off your clothes, kitten.
cum for me, kitten.
now! i'm going to hurt you,
i'm going to cane you, i'm
going to brand you, you'd better
cum, kitten, now, kitten,
i want to hear you scream, kitten...
i miss you, master.
i miss you.