I’m terrified.  Scared beyond measure.  Fight or flight wars within me, and flight wants to win.

I love Him, and I love the man.  I have thought it over and over again in the past days.  I could not voice it; I dared not.  Voicing it made it real, and the moment it became real, it could end.

We danced around it.  We used euphemisms.  I was ok with that, but I still thought it in my head each time I used some other word.

Then it was said out loud.  It took my breath away to hear it.  It scared me; pure terror coursed through my body.  I have been wrong so many times.  For the first time, I have found something that feels as natural as breathing, that doesn’t feel like hard work.

What if I’m wrong?  What if I’m being stupid – again?  What if I hurt him?  What if I flake out and think I’ve been wrong about my feelings? What if we’re perfect apart and horrible together?  What if I come to rely on him too much – and he doesn’t want that?  What if I lose myself for all the wrong reasons and in all the wrong ways? What if?

“I love you.”

I thought the words in my head and kept them to myself.  Thirty seconds later, I said it.  Our relationship cannot survive without communication – our D/s relationship, our friendship, our love affair.  If I thought it to myself instinctively, I needed to say it – no matter how frightening, no matter how difficult.

Those three little words make this real.

I have tried to find the words to describe how I feel as a submissive woman, and I have fallen short each time.  It’s as if I’ve woken up from some deep sleep all these years.  I do not question my actions or my reactions.  It’s natural; it’s comfortable; it’s comforting; it’s real.  And while I recognize that this part of myself has been hibernating within me for years, it took Him to bring it out in me.  I have read the writings of other Sirs, other Doms.  Almost none of them held any appeal for me – their style too abrasive, too demanding, too strict, not strict enough, whatever.

He came into my life out of nowhere, and His style of D fits my natural sub-self.  Too good to be true makes me nervous – is this too good to be true?  I’ve never had a single easy thing in my life, not one…how can I trust this?  How do I know this is real?

In the ways that matter, we’re alike – we crave communication, we laugh at the same things, we have similar personality traits, and, and, and… In other ways that matter, we’re polar opposites – He’s Sir, and I’m pet; He’s a sadist, and I’m a masochist; He’s a voyeur, and I am a budding exhibitionist (but only for Him).  Why does it feel perfect?  There’s no such thing as perfect.  Perfection is a fucking myth.  I’m so scared.

I want to analyze this to death, so that I can understand.  I need an explanation.  That way, when it ends, I can point back to my explanation and realize what I missed – so I don’t miss it the next time, so that I see the signs sooner, so that I’ll know it’s not real and that I’m setting myself up for heartbreak.  But there is no explanation – this defies logic.  It works; we fit.

I want it to work.  I want it to be real.  I want the dream, the fairy tale (albeit a little dark and twisted).  I want every word He’s said to me to be true.  I need it.  He gives me everything I ever wanted or needed – even the things I didn’t know I needed.  How could I live without that now that I know what’s it like?  How could I ever let Him go if He decided one day that’s what He wanted?

I’ve been so wrong before.

I love him.  And I’m terrified.

About the author

Kayla Lords

I am an erotic author, sex blogger, podcaster, freelance writer, and an opinionated marketer. I'm also a masochistic babygirl submissive with an amazing and sadistic Daddy Dom. Welcome to my kinky corner of the internet!


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