Kneel there, quietly

Kneel there quietly, my little slave.
At my feet, rest in peaceful security.

No harm, no threat, nothing can touch you.
You have nothing to fear, not a care in the world.

Resting there at my feet, you have but one thought
and that is doing as you are bid by me, your Master.

You have but one desire and that is making me happy.
You have room for but one thing in your mind
and that is me, your Master.

You need no other sustenance.
There is nothing BUT me.

You are mine and I am your haven.
I am the nectar for which you thirst.

There at my feet with your eyes downcast,
think of nothing but me, you have no other
worldly concerns or cares, no fears and no anxieties.
You are wrapped in a blanket of safety and protection.

Feel my tender hands running through your hair.
Feel my adoring touch and focus on nothing
but listening to Master breathe.

Grant to me, the gift of your submission
and I will honor you with respect,
I will lavish you in love and admiration.

No silly games to make you feel like
some subhuman prize; no harsh words to belittle you
and make myself into some bullying tyrant.
That is not what this dance is about,
this waltz between Master and slave.

Make me the gift of trusting in me.
Grant me the privilege of
sheltering you from the world.

Tis an easy thing to be Master, for
my power lies in your submission.

Not always will you lie so peacefully
At my feet. And not always will I be there
To envelope you in my security.

Reality often interferes with this
game we are playing, this adventure
we so fondly refer to as life.

Never forget the rules that I teach you
and let na’er a want to be “master” rule you
with a harsh hand or a sharp tongue.

Don’t empower such a weakling
with the grace of your submission.

Make no gifts of fake submission,
don’t fluff his ego at the cost of your own.
Promise me never to submit to satisfy his vanity
and I will promise you that submission is never a game.

But, that is then and this is now.
And now let us remember one thing.
You are safe there at my feet,
that is my gift back to you,
in payment for your
sweet and elegant submission.

As much as I demand your respect
when you call me Master and not by my name.
Know that I also give you great respect,
when instead of your name I call you my slave.
©2009 J.L. Day