I have to hide in his closet, I have to do as I am told, I have to stay quiet, so that no one knows.
To me, he is my world, to him I am a toy, a pet, a play thing.
To me, he is everything.
To him, I am nothing.
I am his slave, a submissive by choice. It's not healthy, it's not proper, he doesn't follow the rules like my other Masters have in the past, but I fear disobedience. He can be kind, and it is those small moments that I cherish. I will do anything for the soft touch that he provides so scarcely.
For you see, I love him, but he doesn't love me. Another is given his unabashed intimacy, even though that life is a fallacy. He has what he wants everyone to see and then he also has me.
I am hidden.
I am a shadow.
I allow him to be his true self.
I used to have what she has. He used to be mine as much as I am his, but now that's changed. She may be able to hold him, to walk hand in hand with him, to be at home with his family, but she will never have what I have. I may have lost my place, she may have won his favor, but this consolation prize has become my saving grace.
In the end, I could never really explain to someone why I have chosen to be this way. I guess, it comes down to the fact that I have become so accustomed to maltreatment that I find pleasure in being used. I feel like I don't deserve humane attention, I don't even feel as if I am a person very often anymore.
I am his toy, his pet, his play thing. To be pushed, yanked, prodded, beaten, mistreated as he sees fit.
I am his broken toy to enjoy.
No matter how much he chooses to punish me, I will beg like a loving puppy for the one glimmer of love he may give me.
Fooling around in his bed, being tied in his room, the lights dim or the sunshine through the curtain our only friend. That's where my life lies, that is where I belong.
He's recently started cuffing me and tying my hair back, so that he has something to hold when he wants control. I love when he stands over me and I have to beg to touch him, my whimper compliant and my mouth ready to receive. I accept everything he offers, taking in as much as I can, to meet his standards. He isn't always pleased because my mouth is small and he doesn't fit far enough in, but I try and most days that is enough. When it's not, that's when I struggle. Depending on how disappointed he is I suffer various punishments. The easiest to handle being the need to calm my gag reflex as he rams himself down my throat with no remorse.
I feel needed by him because no matter how little compassion he shows me, I know that she can not provide him what I do. With me as a loyal servant and sexual companion he has the outlet for his animal instincts that he so desperately needs. With her, his world is vain and meaningless, I am his true bliss.
He needs me as much as I want him.
The bond we share as he pulls my hair and paddles my ass while I obediently lay across his knees. It's something she can never take away from me.
In the end, I will never understand why he has chosen to be this way. I guess, it comes down to the fact that he fell out of love with me. I don't really know why, or how, or even exactly when. One day he broke up with me, but demanded I stay by his side and I agreed because I was too scared to lose him. That's where it went wrong really, because he knew of my past but never quite understood it. He thinks he's fulfilling the role of my previous controllers, but he is wrong and I am content with that.
I've accepted the fact that I get to play, but as soon as she wants him I must be placed away.
It's become so dangerous that she has almost caught us, which I know would destroy him. I like that I give him something she can't, but I am no longer allowed to supply what she does. She is allowed to run her hands through his hair, to hold him while they drift into sleep, to laugh and to joke, while I crouch in the closet afraid to cry in case she hears the sound. That's what tears me down, what makes me question why I do this...
Her giggle, the warm honey of her voice as she whispers to him what she believes only he can hear, the soft smack of their lips as they playfully kiss. He holds her without a second thought, cares for her with abandon, and is so gentle with her. It hurts me, knowing I have to hide away in shame while she is allowed anything she could possibly dream of.
What if I came out one day, or refused to hide? What if I demanded to reveal the truth?
Would she run away, would he disown me?
He won't do anything with her that he does with me and I don't get to do anything she does with him. The knowledge eats away at me, while she is carefree in her ignorance.
But... We aren't so different she and I. We both readily eat from the palm of his hand like trained wolves. Her from the right, I from the left. She receives kindness and flourishes as a soft childish pup while I am granted a stiff hand and can never get enough. She is more of skittish Chihuahua whose never once stepped into the outside world, while I am a veteran of beatings and mistreatment. But still, we yearn for the same, acceptance from the Master. She is simply unaware that this is the game she plays with the man we both love.