Searching through the house you find me upstairs walking out of the attic where so many disused accumulated belongings reside.
"Sir," you begin, leaning against the wall unable to establish eye contact. "May I please speak with your?"
"But of course you may my little one," I respond, your eyes perking up at the sound of your pet name. "Why don’t we go back to the attic amid memories and a lifetime of accumulated belongings and sit down while you tell me whatever is on your mind."
Turning back to the attic I walk ahead of you leaving you to trail along behind. The dark wood of the attic surrounding us adds to the sense of time gone by and dreams left behind. The effect is somber and serious. I wonder to myself what you have decided in the course of your long and clearly tortured time out. I wonder if this is the end of the road for us or the path to a new beginning.
But I have made my position clear and will abide by my own words. If submission to me is not something you completely embrace and desire from the very core of your being then you are free to go and I will not stop you or try to dissuade you. My heart is heavy at the prospect but I steal myself to be strong and firm in my conviction.
Taking an old folding wooden stool from a pile of disused belongings I open it and turn to sit facing the direction from which you have followed.
Caption © For the Love of A Submissive, 2012