From a friend of a friend of a friend.... 

slavery is not about suffering . . .

. . . slavery is about service

slavery is not about humiliation . . .

. . . slavery is about humility.

slavery is not about pain . . .

. . . slavery is about being present.

slavery is not about being used . . .

. . . slavery is about being of use.

slavery is not about control . . .

. . . slavery is about letting go.

slavery is not about what is done to you . . .

. . . slavery is about what you do for others.

slavery is not about abuse . . .

. . . slavery is about acceptance.

slavery is not about proving anything . . .

. . . slavery is about being real.

slavery is not about contempt . . .

. . . slavery is about respect.

slavery is not about how you look . . .

. . . slavery is about how much you care.

slavery is not about denying yourself . . .

. . . slavery is about being open.

slavery is not about bondage . .

. . . slavery is about freeing your spirit.

slavery is not about punishment . . .

. . . slavery is about discipline.

slavery is not about being unable to escape . . .

. . . slavery is about being committed.

slavery is not about submission . . .

. . . slavery is about obedience.

slavery is not about fear . . .

. . . slavery is about trust.

slavery is not about pleasure . . .

. . . slavery is about happiness.

In His presence she is found... in reverence she kneels at His feet, lowering her head... eyes downcast and averted in the deafening silence... betrayed by the burgeoning beats of her own heart... she waits silently at His feet craving that first touch... the hypnotic sound of His voice... the rush of His powerful presence cascading over her, consuming her... calling for His controlling hand. The silence breaks and He softly speaks her name... every fiber of her being reacts to the empowered sound of His voice... her breath catches, her heart thunders, her pulse races and she is overcome with the unyielding need to surrender her very essence to Him. For her, the man towering before her is everything. Her sole desire to please Him, to emerse herself in His needs, abandoning herself to Him. In atonement He is her mentor, her teacher, her lover, her world, the very air she breathes... He is her Master.

Credit to Marietta

This is borrowed from another sub and I like it: "So many times I'm asked, as are so many other submissives, 'What are your darkest desires?' It is easy to write all the things that excite or stimulate you sexually. But what is my darkest desire? It's not the act of being put over a man's knees. It is the obeying of his wish to lower my panties to mid thigh leaving me feeling vulnerable; turn to show him my quivering ass knowing that exposure leaves me feeling so weakened; kneeling over his knees knowing that I will feel the sting of his slap, and not wanting to feel it. It's knowing that I will obey, not because it's pleasurable for me, but because he wishes it. The submission to his will is my darkest desire. That doesn't mean I do not have many things that excite me. But that is not what drives me. My pleasure stems from respecting his guidance, obeying his wishes, trusting him to lead us to exciting things without ever making me feel endangered. To know that the trust is there to do the things I do not enjoy and learn to accept and relish in them because he keeps me safe enough to let go of inhibitions; his protection and guidance keeps me liberated, thus becoming open to all the acts. It's through that trusted submission where he can feel the freedom to be who he is without reservations. "Power is my fetish not the individual acts and how I relate to them.""