"I never really played with stuffed animals as a child"

"what a sad life, my room is still full of stuffed animals, old and new"

At that moment he sent a message that filled me with curiousity. There was no message before, no message after, no surrounding sentences, and no punctuation other than a lonley period.

"Princess."

Contemplation on how to respond. Did he see princess as a bad thing? Does he like the princess type? This one word spirled me into a blushing confusion. I decided I would respond with the quick sarcasm he befriended me for.

" Who said you could judge me now?"

His response came within seconds.

"I'm not judging you, simply stating what you are , princess"

Um , that cleared nothing up. He didn't understand that my humor was just a beg for explanation.

"Have a problem with girls who like stuffed animals?"

I continued to keep up my shield of sarcasm until i felt like i understood the war.

"No, not at all. You like pink, I noticed that within the past year, you love hello kitty, you'd rather live in a fairy tale, and you collect stuffed animals. You were already a little sub girl, you being fond of that name would just be the icing on the cake, princess."

I sat there and smiled and giggled and was filled with such innocent joy.

yes, I'll be your princess.

He's always been my protector.

He's always had my back.

This, this is new.

I found out so much of him as his friend. I've always seen him as a big strong man, and I a petite, yet strong minded woman. He would speak softly of his animalistic feelings when we were friends, and I would leave him hanging on for the next installment of my emotions. For years we were close friends and within the blink of an eye , he's asing me on a date. He exclaimed that he's always seen me as a future partner. I decided to follow his lead and react like the giddy breath-taken young girl he made me feel like. The conversation between us stayed nervously loving for a long while. He deemed it time to discuss the things we had told eachother in the comfort of friendship. I took deep breathes and long pauses while reading the words from him that I never knew I craved. I would reply with short sentences. All I wanted was to participate fully, but had he earned it yet? The conversation seemed quite steady and like it was veering in another direction, a much safer one. Then he proclaimed, "I've always dreamt of you and your submission." My heart stopped momentarily. Is it possible to get turned on by one sentence? At that moment I had to decide my worth. What did I want to be to him?

After long moments of contemplation I decided on the perfect answer, it read as this , " I often dream of my submission as well. Let's talk a little further down the road about how you can earn it." and with that, I difused the conversation while keeping my value.He loves throwing me curve balls like that, who knows what will be brought up next.

How much must you love someone in order to treat them as you don't ?

I don't mean genuinly mistreat them. I mean, how much must you love someone to treat them as nothing more than ash and dog shit on your shoe by request? Maybe it's more of a "how much do they trust me?" ,or "how much do they love me?' thing. Who knows. Perhaps, we all feel as though we deserve mistreatment? Reprimand? Likewise, with our subconciounse always putting our emotion first, maybe we perfer to recieve the punishment we sentence to ourselves by someone who we know doesn't think we are bad at all? With every slap, we get to remind ourselves that in a moments time, we're cleansed. Cleansed without losing a companion. Cleansed withought a hospital visit. Cleansed without someone loosing faith in you. We as humans love to be punished by someone we trust, in order not to lose the trust of someone we love. It's quite selfish when you dive in. "My dignity is more important than anything I did to you."

When we scream harder, we are just so turned on by the idea of dishing out our own controlled revenge. When we scream don't stop, that's the guilt of selfishness creeping in. Good luck escaping the cycle. Once you start controlling your conciouse, there's no turning back.

Mindless emotion ,

Mixed with mindless devotion.

Why would I leave when pretending to respect him is so fun?

He may think he's incharge,

That "the big ole daddy" has the key.

Though his ego is only large,

due to decisions made by "lil ole "me.

I'll sit back and play pet,

as long as it is at my gain.

The day that I am threw with him,

he will find what all remains.

"stop being so vulgar"

"stop with the sin"

but without these things they told her,

where does the fun begin?

i'm no longer watching my tongue,

not speaking only pure.

how can my words be so young,

when my brain says "please fuck me sir?"

fuck me until i don't feel,

fuck me until i am new.

rape me until i peal, 

i'm yours, to love however you want to.

how do you ever expect to be taken seriously when you,

yourself, 

no longer see the seriousness of your surroundings?

do you feel your feelings?

or do you simply know they're there? 

do you acknowledge them?

soak?

devour?

If you continue to push them away,

exile them to a different part of your brain,

you will never fully get rid.

you must eat all the food on your plate for it to go away,

but simply pushing it around won't help at all.

don't save your feelings for later,

 face them head first. 

get rid of them.

She's the mistress of the devil.

The prostitute of the underworld.

Standing on every fiery corner,

waiting for her next demon.

She doesn't fuck for the money,

she fucks for the thrill.

She likes it dark.

Hot.

To her, sex isn't sex unless it's dirty.

Unless she's crying.

Screaming.

But I guess that's what it takes,

to please the whore of sin.