My life, in its entirety thus far, has been a kaleidoscope of mistakes and memories. I know that I have so very much knowledge that I might soak up, and so little patience for waiting to soak it up. One of the aspects of my life where I wish I could soak up more and more is in the confines of my chosen lifestyle. Although, to say that I chose it is a misconception. It’s more accurate to say that I am a part of it and I chose to accept it.
I am a slave, a submissive. I thrive on pleasing, on serving. It is, and has always been, a part of the very fiber of my being. I ache when I disappoint, and I die a little inside when I have not served to my highest capacity. I yearn for the look of pride, of approval. I survive without it, but it’s a pale existence in comparison to knowing that I am pleasing, to know that I make someone completely, unequivocably happy. No financial pleasure can ever touch that feeling. It shouldn’t.
I live for the look in Someone’s eyes as I kneel at His feet, void of disrespect or defiance, and know that I am accepted as I am. I know that I am needed for exactly who I am at that moment and not for the someone They want to change me to be.
We are, by nature, social creatures. Whether we wish to spend time in large groups or to course through life in small packs, we need people. My need in a person is just a little different than others is. I hunt for an Alpha male who will accept this girl as she is, with all of her fiery passion and fierceness. Someone who will howl at the moon with me as an equal, but accept lovingly a bared belly in submission.
I have had my fair share of missteps, stumbles and tumbles down the road of my life. I have hurt people in my search to accept who I am and what I have as a woman to offer. I have lost dear friends and people who meant, at the time, worlds to me. Sometimes, though, in the course of our lives, we meet people out there who touch our hearts and remind us why we are on this journey. Why we search for our mate and why we break a little as we continue down the path. No meeting is ever chance; we are destined, in some way, to experience the things that we do in order to shape the person we shall become.
As I walk down this path, I hunt for my Master. I hope I’ve found Him. My heart calls to Him and it sings. Isis, it sings like nothing I’ve ever heard.
And Isis, how I love Isis. To me, she is the epitome of everything that is pure and good in a slave. When Seth betrayed Osiris, Isis revived Him with the aid of Anubis, and when Seth killed Him again and scattered His body to all directions, she spent an eternity putting Osiris back together. Her love spanned an eternity and beyond. That is the deep well of love a slave possesses for her Master. That is what my heart yearns for. A love like that. A love that breaks the boundaries of social norms and cares nothing for what is right in the eyes of others.
Love is sneaking into the bedroom at one a.m. and watching Him sleep peacefully wishing and praying and crying out silently in prayer that this girl is Home.