Master of her desires

I used the phrase recently: “Master of her desires”. Let’s examine this, shall we?  Master of her desires..HER desires.  I am not HER Master, she can not own me, I own her.  I am the Master she serves.  When others would say “I”, she says, “this slave”.  Me, my, mine.  These are stricken from her language. I am not HER Master.  There is nothing that my property has or controls, that is not directly or indirectly mine to possess.  Not in word or practice.  HER desires?  Is she allowed to own her desires, I ponder?  This is the way of my mind, these word games with meaning.

I have a house.  WE have a home.  She is part of the property that makes a home so much more than walls with furniture.  but HER desires. hmmm.  Yes, she may have desires.  It is the underpinning of MY desires.  To know that she possesses the hunger to consume me with her needs and lust.  Yes, she MUST have her desires.  For what she has, I will possess and I would most certainly possess her desire.

All that she is, all that she has is mine. Often I place my hand on her ass, and the words escape..mine!   Her desires are my desires.  I am the Master who will own her, and with that I  master her desires.  I will shape this living canvas to my needs, take her, mold her, yes! I WILL be the Master of her desires.

Moreover, I will be the Master THAT she desires.  By feeding her on the sweet nectar of that which she desires, I become all the more the focus of desire.  We are the carnal ouroboros, the endless cycle of ying and yang, the lingam and yoni, the tantric rhythm throbbing in the night.  I will take her desire, strip her free of even that, to stand before me in naked beauty. What may she have?

She may have nothing, so that she may have it all.

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