Mistress, I’m discovering I have developed a taste for abdicating my desires to your vanity. It’s the most remarkable series of sensations. First, comes the tearing, the claw ripping part of my insides away. It’s painful, but neither my body nor mind complains. I endure it with complete placidity as though . . . nothing. When do we endure pain with placidity, certain it will pass but not anxious for it to pass? I utterly accept it as part of the larger experience that will set me free.
After the pain, my eyes feel weepy from nostalgia as I see burning bits of paper float up and burn out in my head. The nostalgia is mourning the time I controlled my desires’ effect on me, which was always too limited by fear. I believe.
Then I feel free of the burden of wanting what I cannot have. I share the desires with you, like that you question me when I’m out of it, both because I feel it is a gift I can give you and I want you to value that gift enough to accept it, and because it will build trust which will bring you closer to me at least in spirit, So, I share the desire and you decide its fate. And I am free of yearning because the nature of what facilitates all this literally makes the desire yours. How can I yearn for a desire that is no longer mine?
I’m looking forward to the next emotional fantasy I had that I didn’t guess the exact form of so I can learn to correct myself. I would guess it pleases you. It allows me to explore my bond to you. I do it for both of us, incidentally. Well, I don’t want to be accused of false advertising and these are wishes of mine that will make me a better partner.
