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slaveseekinghome

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Whats in a name? A name helps identify who you are to others. A rose by any other name is still a rose so why bother? Most people, like the blooming flower have no say in its name. It was decided by another such as a mother or father. I am not a slave in the literal sense because i am unchained in my beating heart and yearning soul. But I am no less a slave to others, because it is in pleasing others that helps me find not only purpose, but my role. I am shackled by desires that are not my own. Bent on knees, hands clapsed behind back I await Her collar. Finding the pleasure in the pain, ridicule and humiliation so long as she is happy with me I dont care if I hollar. But I am seeking more than just a life of servitude, I am seeking a balance between the kink and my everyday life. My eyes strain, fixated on more than just a play partner but a storybook ending that ends in finding a wife. Im not a fool to rush in, I just aim for the heavens in hopes of landing among the stars, set the bar high, never settle. My head may be in the clouds, but thats just to keep my mind occupied, the water wont boil staring at your kettle. I am ever-seeking who I am as I change like the seasons. There are many truths I no longer hold to be self evidant. I dont really know where to begin but to say life is a journey, that Im not standing where I was is my evidence. Finally a place to call home. For a house isnt a home, and a home isnt always found in four walls. It can be found in the solace of friends, in thier kind writings and even just when someone gives you a call. A place of belonging, a feeling of warmth, love and safety, despite the degradation or whips lashes. After all, Id like to be known as a person before One starts trying to change me through pain or verbal bashes. More to come, as I continue down this road a slave, watchful eyes seeking more than just an abode.

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11/2/2016 10:59:02 PM
It's pulling just under the surface, clawing it's way out. It's been buried 6 feet under, held at bay by my minds clout. I'm hiding the truth behind my facade, but it can be seen in my eyes. There's no fire behind them, it's flames burned too bright. My minds eye can't see the horizion, only endless rolling night. Love is the deception that creeps into my heart whispering it's sweet lie. Hope is the nightmare that plagues me, telling my heart it can fly. Anger is a quick fix, dangling a carrot, seething with emotions that fade like vapor. Sadness is the betrayer, quick to conjure but quicker to taper. Truth is the suit that I tailor to my needs, wearing whatever fits. Lies are the comfort food I surround myself with, savoring each bit. Blood is only a crimson image that makes me believe there's something inside. Tears streak from a hollow mask, excess water to make you think I cried. If you were to listen closely you'd hear that I'm not breathing. Apathy has become my existence, a life long past it's shelf life, fleeting. Tell me how an unemotional husk can have a heart that's still beating? Lie to me and tell me that you can save me from the nothing. Deceive yourself into believing that making me submit to You will mean something. Whisper hot air that by bowing to you, I will fill this void, lifted by your wings. Put on the suit of your position, wear it with authority and command me to sing. I've defied Gods, played with the Devils fire, I fear not mortals wrath. I'm the gambler, betting that if we push ourselves to the edge, I will feel a flicker in the aftermath.

3/18/2016 5:07:41 AM
Nose diving through every misconception of life as it flashes before unflinching eyes. Downward spiraling, the ground racing towards me as I attempt to fly. Crashing through every dream, I reach out trying in vain to grab hold, but they're like clouds with no substance with little to cling to. Free falling as life flies back at breakneck speed, I'm already a fading memory, will I crash and burn or pull through? The great divide, an endless chasm of frustration, a testimony to the power of the human spirit, or to my stupidity. All that's left is myself when there's nothing left to believe in. So either I will learn to fly, break through or bleed out, legt with only my humility. Tail spinning I grin, is it madness? The plane comes to life, but I ignore the comforts of familiar skies, I want to punch a hole through that wall. Kamikaze, no turning back, what is the point of living when you barely have a pulse? I see the whole of my existence as I near the end of my fall. Normalcy has never suited me. I realize those dreams were a cage that held me to the complacency of nine to five. What lies beneath my surface screams to break through to the unknown, not to live just to thrive. Keep your material world, your safety nets, label me fallen, I won't change for anyone, the mundane isn't for me. Reentry may burn me up, solitude may be my legacy, and maybe I only have myself to lose, but the other side of the horizon is all these eyes see. Defiant I plummet towards reality's harsh embrace. Elation and fear wash over me, I have a wall to face.

2/10/2016 12:40:30 AM
It's been so long, do you even recognize the sheep hiding in wolf's clothing? The wide-eyed innocence of my youth replaced with pessimistic cynicism and loathing? Can you see me? All my dreams replaced by broken glass? Fragile is the dreamer. Even the light in my eyes has dimmed from straining them for so long for a redeemer. My once-youthful face now has lines of dismay and scars to remind me not every finale has a happy ending. But feel not discouraged, for though the outside aged, I haven't been broken through all the bending. Inside myself I retreat. My mirrors reflecting much more than a hollow shell. In my sleep do I live, dreams become reality, and when I wake my mind shuts off to survive life's hell. I remain bright-eyed and hopeful as the world fades to black, I see the world as the boy who was so vulnerable. I cling to a dream of living for something beyond myself, living a life that's selfless and honorable. But when the alarm sounds I drift to a world of mere existance, this has become my haunting. Dreamers may not lose vision, but everyone else seems so content, I can almost hear them taunting. How long must a dreamer dream before they become hopeless, pulled forever into wonderland, all alone? As I stand beside myself peering into what I was, I come to the conclusion that no matter how long this takes I will become the dream's epitome.

6/18/2015 1:31:24 AM
Forgive me but I wont be coming home, There is no heart in it so I'll wander alone. My eyes have no more tears to shed. I couldn't close my eyes, restless in the bed. I need love, not it's motions. I refuse to surrender to every one of your notions. To and fro, unrequited down the road. Better than submission at the cost of my own code. I want to be captivated, not shackled. It cant be forced, enslaved, beaten or tackled. I hide behind my own eyes, never revealing the pain behind this lie, ever concealing the emptiness i feel. Doubt replaces adoration, how much of it was real? Forgive me for leaving after all you've been through. Dont turn turn around, one foot in front of the other, fixated on the grey sky's hue. I pushed away your kindness knowing all I could recipricate was pain. This has been over for awhile, your prescence replaced by a chill through my veins. So forgive me, but I've been out in the cold for some time. Blame it on me, let this be my crime. I'll forge ahead in the rain, eyes straining foward as i peer Down the lonely road as i wonder if its rain or if perhaps I still have tears.

5/11/2014 5:13:43 PM
A recent Dominant asked me if I wanted to serve Her. Upon reading her profile which was oh-so-brief, the only thing she sought was money. I do not hold any malice towards Pro Dommes but it was clear she didnt take the time to read my posts so this was my reply: Thank you for showing interest but your profile seems so fleeting, so brief. Based on your limited writing I dont think we are compatible because submission is the ultimate payment has always been my belief. I dont believe in charity, but rather seek someone who values my sacrafice as priceless, I hope that heps brings some clarity. Best of luck in finding someone to give you thier money, many Im sure dont mind squandering their dollars and cents. But I'm someone whose truest desire is to capture my soul, knowing when they have that the rest will bow before Her feet, if that makes any sense. Storing not my treasure on Earth where moth and rust may corrupt, where theives may break in and steal. I will lay my treasure in One who will treasure me, not my wallet. When I am treasured then She will be my treasure, and giving to Her will be my pleasure. I am no pig who serves every self proclaimed Mistress like a wild beast. I dont seek to serve with just money, because thats after all doing the very least. Take money from a submissive as payment, ensnare him for a day, Teach a man to submit his soul, ensnare him for a lifetime.

1/15/2010 2:20:01 PM
                     Life is Like

A box of chocolates? no thats too sweet, the stuff of innocent dreams.
Russian Roullete? A deadly game of chance that always ends in the guns steam.
Poker? Feeling alive so as your still in the game holding all the Aces.
A day at the track? Putting all your money on one horse to make up for all the other races.
This much I know, life never heeds your demands, it turns a deaf ear.
The harder you try to grasp it, the faster it will slip away leaving you with only your fears.
Life is worth living, but you should never put too much expectation in the unknown.
Because its also like riding a wild bull, it will buck until you get thrown.
War? Absolutely. Both sides go into it thinking they are fighting injustice, no one truly wins.
A day at church? being judged by those who are lost in hypocracy, pointing out your sins.
Every expectation and dream I ever had has faded like the setting sun.
I have fallen down crying tears of blood, begging for the bullet in the gun.
I have nothing to offer other than my own tainted soul.
Thats what life gives you, fire that will burn you as your raked along the coal.
This heart beats, but it hasnt skipped one in two lifetimes.
Life isnt like order, nor a poem that holds structure, reason or rhyme.
You cant package it and think your ideals will come to fruition.
It asks for nothing, yet holds so many in utter submission.
Those who have acheived even a drop of their dreams bottle it up for fear of losing it.
their lips quenche for it but understand that it may be the source that saves from the pit.
Hope? Holding on to their personal "I Have a Dream" speech hoping the sun dawns on them
sowning over the rough spots with the needle of perserverance hoping it will fix with the hem
A childs cry? A scream that begs for attention, unable to put frustration in words.
A dreamer? Looking to be set free so that they can soar above reality among the birds.
I am finding out all perceptions about what life may hold were whispered lies, childern's books
that left me empty and hollow as i watched Tinker Bell ripped assunder by Captain Hook.
My Mind still wanders where the wild things are, trapsing among the sunlight.
But as the moon begins to rise I hear the call of the wild, beckoning me to reality's plight.
What will I wrangle from this preverse life where little girls long for the life of Gossip Girl?
Ideas of romanticism are being choked out by an existance among swine looking for pearls.
They store their treasures in vanity, I try to hide myself in the clouds, dreaming above.
Hoping they wont strangle my last wish from life, to find someone to share the gift of love.
If I receive nothing else from life, than I will be able to say it was worth the living.
Sefless in their arms, as our hearts become would be the only gift worth giving.

10/27/2009 5:56:22 PM

Silence May Be Golden, But So Is Indviduality.
Someone else is on their soapbox telling me what means to be a submissive
their words gain momentum by masses whose acceptance to change feigns on dismissive. 
I did not ask for their approval, neither did I subscribe to their solicitation of fitting in.
They mock my visage as if unwilling to submit to all claiming superiority is an abhorrent sin.
To Hades with them who needs acceptance from many at the cost of their self worth?
Better to die alone than to live like cattle, trying desperatly to appease the entire earth.
How can one know the joy of submitting to One, if they freely give themselves to all?
They cheapen the gift of giving in by always heeding to every strangers beck and call.
If you always play to lose, then why play at all?  You already know you will never win.
I would much rather go without then to never feel the passion of submitting my all within.
If an inner change does not take place when I do give in, why live for anything at all?
If I do give my very essence away, to Them alone will I bow down and worship in thrall.


9/7/2009 6:48:25 PM
Emptiness swallows me whole as i drfit through a sea of uncertaninty, fighting naught the current.
I hold nothing in reserve as i plummit downwards, offering nothing save my death as a deterent.?
So many look at this mortal frame and all they see is self loathing.? They perceive through marred eyes of erroneous sight.
They marvel that one finds comfort in the silent abyss. Too afraid to challenge society's opinion will be their plight.
As I?fall further and further down, i laugh at all those trying to climb ever higher up the provervial ladder.
They glare down with their pretenous beady eyes, not for an instance asking what did he do to himself to fall.? Only when it's too late will they realize that I'm this way because i climbed?to the top and realized nothing really mattered.

7/15/2009 11:20:55 PM
Angel- an instrument of a higher power that was created for worship.  Also carries out its masters dealings in lower beings, such as delivering a message or bringing death.  (I.E. Micheal the bringer of death.) a cursed soul that can never know, feel or experiance true love for fear of waking the demon within? (I.E. Angel the vampire cursed with a soul)
I watch him struggle with living, knowing his curse all too well,
feeling his pain as he walks the earth an empty shell.
Deep down inside he wants to revert back to his heartless existance and take in the evil.
He yearns to be free from this trifle life that has left him feelling so feeble.
He lives among beating hearts, but can never enjoy the sensation.
His soul is too strong to allow himself to be lost in passion's elation.
He can never go back to the twisted bliss that he once reveled in,
but he cannot walk the righteous path because his very life is a sin.
I walk the road behind him, breathing life but never grasping its meaning.
Inside I'm breaking as I watch so many enjoying all the bleeding.
Togeather we sit with only the darkness to weclome us in a cold, dark room.
We watch as the abyss swallows us whole, pulling us into its hallowed tomb.
The demented bathe in their desires burning through life at breakneck speed,
never looking back for an instant to acknowledge the devastation of their deed.
The virtous cling to things of more substance, stopping to enjoy the flowers.
They make the moments that matter last, not regretting a past that was beyond their power.
Us? We take up space in both realities without ever grasping it much like Ruipert Giles,
and the saddest part to me is most of you missed the message because your still asking yourself "Who is Rupert Giles?"  

6/25/2009 6:25:48 PM
theres a place so cold that the artic winds feel like a midsummers breeze,
as your body grows numb you beg for vital organs to quickly freeze. 
but no merciful death will come in so desolate a place,
no one hears your screams or sees the tears streaking down your brittle face.
sunshine does not touch this imprisoned tomb,
its so dark that not even shadows dare to lurk in this haunted room.
we all die alone but in this dillusional prison your constantly reminded as you try to rip yourself apart,
the agonizing pain is overwhelming when your isolated within your own pit of a heart.

6/19/2009 7:16:27 PM

to but gaze upon your complexion for even the briefest of moments takes my very breath as i steal another glance i can feel my heart beats slow down waiting for your command to skip until it brings me to very brink of death.  i whisper in wonder that no beauty can compare to your vibrant hair.  as it sashays across with the most delicate of grace i cant help but stare.   sinfully i cast my eyes to the floor knowing im not even worthy to look upon the bottom of your feet, yet i fear if i dont risk a second look our eyes will never meet.  i hang on every word that falls from your lips like one facing death row hangs on the verdict of insanity, my chances seem so slim compared to a goddess among trolls, yet i wonder if all that beauty is vanity?  i fall to the ground because thinking such sacreligous thoughts makes the very fabric of my being lament, but then i read "im not a financial Domme but i do expect payment.."


6/9/2009 12:30:46 AM
A rose that never blossoms,
left to rot in the sun.
its pedals spill crimson red on the ground.
trampled with disregard as if it were something trife,
its core blackens, rotting as if touched by death.
all that remains are the thorns,
a last minute defense to ward off malice intent
pricking all who carelessly pluck at the vine.
It draws blood because his has been taken,
no longer standing to be stomped under heel,
or ripped apart as he was carelessly beaten.
no longer does he submit to your sweet lips,
whispering softly that your tounge is the nastiest prick of all.

3/10/2008 3:49:12 AM

            Black Tie Sunday
                        -slaveseekinghome
another "Black Tie Event"
wondering where all the time went.
another black rose falls at his side
wondering why i never said goodbye.
for we "are all destined to die."
scripture floods the brain like a brain freeze.
advice as unwanted as a cancerous disease.
quoted to a corpse who held it in disdain.
making him to be a falsehood seems so vain.
i watch as they all pretend, with false images,  conjuring up lies with imaginations limited.
as i watch i have no tears to cry
because i know next to this he'd rather die.
not strong enough to fight off the attacks
i want to speak up, but find the words i lack.
the hurst pulls up, a great man is put inside.
the words never come despite how hard i try.
i honor not a world war II hero,
not a soldier who had the fear level of zero.
i dont honor an officer of the law.
no i honor you grandpa.
you changed me more than words can express  even in death your life continues to impress.
in death as in life may i learn from you.
and grow everyday as you did too.
i wont make your passing an event of sadness  but a monument of your greatness.


1/4/2008 10:39:05 PM
head down, on knees, wondering if She's pleased.
trying to act like hes not intimidaded by Her Prescence he dare not look up as She soaks up his esscence.
Hes afraid to admit that just being here scares him but acting like hes in control just gets him a lash across a back that is bare.
does She find his confidence a threat? no She sees the lie for what it is and now that he has surrendered he must pay his debt.
"Will you trust and Obey Me, even when I tell you what to wear?" afraid to look up, eyes fixed on the floor, he stammers, "Yes Maam," knowing that this is Her Lair.
he smiles insecurely because for the first time he can actually let his guard down and trust She will become his security.                       -slaveseekinghome

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MsxTxDx
 
 Age: 41
 NYC, Florida