About a week ago, I stopped reading the news. Before that I was tense, and miserable. I felt like everything was wrong and I had to get involved, do my part to some how to fix the madness.

One week later and I am living in paradise...

Up fresh from a good pounding on my pussy… yes mine because I own her body and mind… a fresh cup of tea and I am feeling really good. While my slave learns to walk again, I am reflecting.

Yesterday was just as good, but first a little about why… I’ve always had a fantasy about a slave at work.. a secretary or personal assistant that serves coffee, sorts the mail, and then gets under the desk to provide some Oral Service.

There is something quite pleasing about the idea of a selfless servant obediently bobbing up and down on your cock as you clear your inbox… until that time when you can’t concentrate because you know that you are just seconds away from filling that warm willing mouth full of cum.

Thank God for work at home and a home office. I stuck my slave under my desk and it was so good she had to swallow twice!

If you call yourself a Master or an Owner and you can’t order this when you want it or where.. (if in your opinion it is an acceptable risk).. then either you are not a Master or they are not a slave.

A slave is there to be used. Why you might want to own a slave.. and then not exercise your will to fulfill your desires is beyond me. A slave is to be an extension of your will. They may be a girlfriend or wife but if you think that is who they are.. you miss the point. .

You have to understand the basics. OK.. I played an adult BDSM game yesterday and there was a scene where the tables are turned and you come under the control of the woman you are seeking to control.. I HATED getting through that part of the game.

It runs against the very core of my being to be totally under someone else’s control and therein lies the thing. My slave is exactly the opposite of me. Everything I am not, she is. Your perspective and theirs are not the same. Just as you have your core.. the center of who and what you are.. so too do others.

To take on a slave.. and then not control them.. to not give them what they need.. is to not feed them.. is to starve their soul. If you are not using a slave it is a terrible injustice to both them and yourself.

I know this is a hard concept for some people to grasp. I get it. The paradise I and my slave live in is alien to some but not to us. I often sit across from my slave and just grin.. and them she gives me that coy smile back..

We love each other. We understand each other. She understands that I can be a controlling manipulative evil man at times and it makes her wet thinking about what will come next. We have none of that animosity.. that low anger and tension.. that domestic disaster that so many live with today.

My slave is now up and ready for ritual one of the day… Carpe Diem my friends. Paradise is sometimes more than a change of perspective away. Sometimes you also have to take action. Go be someone’s great day!

One thought on “Paradise

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