Difficult.. I truly am a difficult woman.
I'm not especially proud of it, but I am very aware of it. It's who I am and what makes me different to everyone else, and although I find it difficult myself some of the time, I really wouldn't change it.
Difficult - in what way?
I am demanding. I mean..DEMANDING! If you are my boy, you need to be there, obsessing about me every minute, every second, every day. And if it wanes over time, I am not understanding. As I see it, my standards have not been met and you are failing me. You are not quite good enough, not quite attentive enough, not quite what I want. Texting is a contact I expect with unending devotion. 1 year on, 5 years on, I expect exactly the same, in fact, I expect it intensified, and if it is not, I am disappointed.
Who could maintain such an exhaustive schedule?
Openness. I expect it as af you had been cut with a blade down the front of your torso and opened apart. Fully and completely exposed so there is nothing, not even your blood and guts to hide from me. And you even make that incision. You are so desperate to show yourself to me, you tear yourself apart and say, "Gorge your beautiful eyes upon my entire being Mistress KeyHolder. Feast yourself on my soul and I will remain as open to you in a year as I present to you today."
Who would cut themselves to the core for me?
Service. Service is a duty which I expect to be continually offered to me until it almost becomes a nuisance. Service in the form of doing everything possible, going out of your way, exerting yourself when you really don't want to, just to please me. Being hungry for it and continually seeking ways to better serve my needs, make another moment in my life happier.
Who would offer such slavery?
There isn't such a man.
But, part of me knows, if there is me who desires such, there is the opposing half who desires to give it.
I know there is such a man and I know I need him.
I'm not especially proud of it, but I am very aware of it. It's who I am and what makes me different to everyone else, and although I find it difficult myself some of the time, I really wouldn't change it.
Difficult - in what way?
I am demanding. I mean..DEMANDING! If you are my boy, you need to be there, obsessing about me every minute, every second, every day. And if it wanes over time, I am not understanding. As I see it, my standards have not been met and you are failing me. You are not quite good enough, not quite attentive enough, not quite what I want. Texting is a contact I expect with unending devotion. 1 year on, 5 years on, I expect exactly the same, in fact, I expect it intensified, and if it is not, I am disappointed.
Who could maintain such an exhaustive schedule?
Openness. I expect it as af you had been cut with a blade down the front of your torso and opened apart. Fully and completely exposed so there is nothing, not even your blood and guts to hide from me. And you even make that incision. You are so desperate to show yourself to me, you tear yourself apart and say, "Gorge your beautiful eyes upon my entire being Mistress KeyHolder. Feast yourself on my soul and I will remain as open to you in a year as I present to you today."
Who would cut themselves to the core for me?
Service. Service is a duty which I expect to be continually offered to me until it almost becomes a nuisance. Service in the form of doing everything possible, going out of your way, exerting yourself when you really don't want to, just to please me. Being hungry for it and continually seeking ways to better serve my needs, make another moment in my life happier.
Who would offer such slavery?
There isn't such a man.
But, part of me knows, if there is me who desires such, there is the opposing half who desires to give it.
I know there is such a man and I know I need him.
The constant taker meets the perpetual giver.
ReplyDelete2 complementary and insatiable desires of equal force.
One born to serve the other born to be served.