A Letter To...

A letter to my Dom

I have watched you watching me many times, too many times. I have watched as I have eased myself from an uncomfortable position and watched as you prepared a treat.
So many times in so many ways you have shown me how to be a good girl and planned our day, lovely days of sunshine and warmth turned into a dark unhappiness. I have watched the equipment get unpacked and felt it being used. Trembled appropriately and shut my mind. My body you could have, my mind, never.
And now I want you to know, to read it all. But I can’t can I? To write I need your permission and you would read it all. And we know what happens when I displease my master don’t we? I have thought to tell many but anticipated the disbelief and the shame. Would there be pity? Why would there be? I am a fully paid up Guardian reader damn it, I lectured on early feminism; whatever can I be doing, bending my will to yours? When I am standing court I will have no answer to this, or rather the answer will be to explain everything and understand nothing.
How did a longing for love and acceptance turn into a nightmare of control, demands and the absolute loss of self?
But I never lost myself did I ? Your threats were intended to frighten, so I showed fear; to intimidate, so I showed frailty; to subjugate, so I submitted.
But I didn't really; it was with mental fingers crossed, a parody of what you thought you needed. Do you know when your need to control became pathological? It is this control that has brought about an end.
This letter will go unread, just as my thoughts went unread. But you could have shared my thoughts but you will never share this letter. Your cold hands will never touch again and your cold heart will beat no more. Your bitch has seen to that.