Why are you afraid of me, pet?

A girl was speaking to her Master a few days ago. Between having her beat her/his cunt with the wide leather belt a couple of hundred times and a ice water enema, he asked a girl why she was frightened of him. Told her to *think* about her answer before she spoke. She did as she was asked and thought hard about what he had asked.

The realization dawned on a girl last year, that it was not a Master that she was afraid of; it was herself. Afraid of what she would do for a Master, afraid of how deep she would allow him to *draw* her into the darkness following him. She fears her Master, and where he will take her, more than any dominant she has come across before. He knows, as well as she does, that she will do *anything* that he asks of her without a second thought. This is what frightens her, the fact that she trusts him implicitly, something a girl has never done. That type of trust is rare for a girl to offer another. She is still trying to work out what makes him so very different to anyone else. Why she would reconsider two of her four hard limits if he asked her to. One she would give up willing, more out of curiosity than anything else, but the other; well, that one will take some time getting used to, if he pushes her at all in that direction.

Hard limits, she has had a few over the years. Breath-play and water-sports were two main ones. Fear of breath play for the obvious reasons, can you trust someone enough to let them choke you to the point of blacking out. Can you be sure that they will not kill you accidentally? Your life is literally in another’s hands. Breath play offers a trust of another with your life.
Water-sports, that was more taste oriented than anything else. The smell, if you have not had enough fluids and the urine is concentrated. Nearly everyone has peed in the shower, whether you admit to it or not. Seriously, who out there would get out of the shower to pee if you needed to? Needing to poo, that’s a completely different story. You can think of water-sports as a dog marking their territory. To show others what is theirs. Getting pissed on can be a total head fuck, but in all honesty, it’s do-able, nothing to whine and whinge too much about. Drinking it, well, it’s somewhat similar to swallowing semen. Just more of it, the consistency and taste is different. Depending on how concentrated it is, it can be virtually tasteless or completely –ugh-. But then wine can be just as –ugh-. Some say it is an intensely spiritual experience; a girl cannot see that. If it were blood, yes; very, but not pee. But “each to their own”, as she always says.

Now she’s started rambling… Gee, she never shuts up. ~laughs~

And so, back to fear…
We fear ourselves; we fear understanding who and what we are. It is why so many of us go about life in a haze, we are afraid of what we already know. We fear taking that next step, the step to find a dominant that will urge us to *see* ourselves. The step forward to explore ourself, our very nature. We fear how far the dominant will push us, how deeply they will drag us to the depths of our *soul* to follow them. We fear what we will do for them without a second thought. We fear what we will become, what we are capable of being. We fear… ourselves…

Hope that made some sense, even a minute bit. It’s been a long few days.

She wishes you well,

beast

Artwork taken from Perfect Muse. Copyright © Christopher Shy. With thanks to both Veronika and Christopher for permission to use this picture.

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