15 January 2011

I love . . .

I love it when we talk. I love hearing the boys voice change as his mind and self begins to feel the depths of submitting. I love hearing how his breath changes with each level of frustration that he feels, the depth and the length of the sighs that come from his mouth as his frustration grows ever more.  I love how easy it is to tease the boy, arouse the boy, deny the boy.  I love how I can torment him, making him listen as I bring myself to a pleasure that he is denied.  I love how it makes him feel.  I love how it frustrates him even more.  I love how he loves it.  I love how I love it. I love that I control it, control him.

I love knowing just how the boy feels, knowing how much he feels within and from his submission. I love the fact he feels, yet doesn't know how to put it into words.  I love being dismissive to him, towards him, of him.  I love dismissing his pleas, his wants, his longings, his frustrations.  I love how he reacts to that dismissiveness.  I love that it pushes buttons, his buttons. I love pushing those buttons and knowing what happens when I do.  I love being indifferent. I love how the boy will sometimes say something, maybe even with a hope for a little sympathy, but knowing that in reality he isn't going to get any.  I love how that frustrates him even more.  I love words and how they touch him, how they make him feel, how they reach down into the depths of his submissiveness and brings it screaming to the fore.  I love how he feels things he hasn't before. I love the fact I bring those feelings to him. 

I love the fact that I am able to be myself, to be the person that I am, and not have to make apologies for that.  I love that I don't have to reign in the natural dominance that is and always has been a part of me. I love how he brings my sadistic feelings and need screaming to the surface in a way they haven't before. I love that I can long to hurt him, want to hurt him, will hurt him, knowing that he wants to feel that hurt.  I love how limits are pushed, how he will do things that he hates doing but does them because I tell him to, make him to, order him to do. I love this, I love everything. I love more. I want to love more . . .

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