MissAmorette

"Sir, discipline is:
the instant, willing obedience to all orders,
respect for authority,
self-reliance and teamwork, Sir!"

There are days when I wake up missing the Marine Corps. Today is not one of them. I will always, in my heart, be a Marine, and I will always regret not being able to continue serving. But I serve my Master now, and He fills a hole in my life that the Corps, for all I love it, only made bigger.

So today I had my first experience as a Domme in a very long time. A good friend of mine (who shall remain nameless) was giving of herself enough that she allowed me to Domme her, along with my Master. It was a little scary, as it has been a very long time since I was in charge of anyone, and very exhilirating.

I've been wondering lately, as I talk to more and more Doms and stay in "sub mode" almost 24/7, if I am actually switch. I've been supressing my Domme side, and this proved to me that it really does exist, and it's not just a need to not be dominated by women, but in fact an impulse to control and care for them. Good to know.

So this semester, I'm taking a creative writing class in college as a requirement of my major, and for fun, because I love to write. Our first project in the class is to write a short story into which some sort of confinement features prominently. Well, we can all guess where I went with that >.< The following is what I came up with. I hope you enjoy it. 

She kneels at his feet, looking up at his face worshipfully?not that she has much of a choice in her expression. It?s the sort of respectful adoration he requires from her. She is his slave.
            It?s her choice to be his slave-- safe, sane, consensual and all that. He takes care of her, and he makes her feel like no one ever has before. Serving him has been the light of her existence. Until now.
            She wants to ask him, but she knows she can?t. He told her to be silent, that she is a pet this evening and pets don?t talk. So she lays her head on his knee and looks up at him adoringly and says nothing. Nothing at all.
            It?s not that important, anyway, she reasons with herself, keeping her expression still as she fights the longing that threatens to rise in her eyes and give her away. I really shouldn?t bother my Master with it; he has important things on his mind. It?s not that important. Is it?
            Master has important things on his mind. She tells herself again and again as she struggles to keep still and silent, a warm and comfortable presence at his knee. Am I even one of them? A traitorous voice in her head whispers. I?m giving my whole life to serve him. Does he think of me?
            I have needs; the voice goes on, echoing louder and louder in the silence of her imagined world. I?m a person, I have needs and desires and I don?t deserve to be ignored! But her Master said she?s a pet tonight. So she must not be a person, after all. She must not speak.
            She obeys; she has to. Obeying him is the staple of her world. If she doesn?t, if she speaks, he could turn her out forever. She would never feel the caress of his hand on her cheek again, never hear his low voice whisper, ?slave,? in her ear, never taste the sweet flavor of his skin. Never again.
            Is it worth it? The voice demands. Is it worth this torturous confinement just to feel and hear and taste him? If he cares for me so, why is he ignoring me? Shouldn?t he know that I need this? Shouldn?t he care?It isn?t her place to question him. He knows best; she?s been taught this again and again. He knows what she wants, he must. He?s just not giving it to her. Why isn?t he giving it to her? Not her place to question.
            She can?t keep the pleading out of her face any longer, but she bites her tongue even as her eyes begin to water. Will he notice his knee getting wet from her tears? He doesn?t seem to notice her breach of expression. He hasn?t even looked at her since he sat down. Not even once.
            She?s been trained, she?s been taught: she must obey. She must not speak. But I?m a human being! I have needs and desires, just as he does! What makes his needs, his desires, more important? Why is he better than she is? Is he better than she is? And if he?s not, where does he get the right to tell her what to do? He turns a page, and she twitches. He still hasn?t looked at her. The voice in her head rises to a scream.
            She?s crying harder now, shaking as she struggles not to sob. She bites her lip hard, tastes copper in her mouth. She mustn?t make a sound, she hasn?t yet, she can?t now?and she won?t. It?s worth it, she snaps inside her own head, directing her venom at the voice that?s questioning her place in life. He?s worth it. She needs to be by his side. She needs him to control her. She needs his guiding hand on her life. She knows that he loves her, and he must be doing this for a reason. He has a reason. She must trust him.
            With her resolution solid in her mind, the voice is silenced. Her shaking stops, her tears cease, and she looks up at him with her genuine adoration renewed. He is her beloved Master, the driving force in her life, who keeps her safe. He still hasn?t looked at her, but it bothers her less than before. Let him read, she whispers in her mind. He deserves a break. He turns another page, and without looking down, trusting that his slave is precisely where she?s supposed to be, he reaches down and gently begins to stroke her hair. She didn?t make a sound.