It came to him silently, gracefully, eagerly. It came to him on it’s hands and knees, driven by need and summoned by the irresistible magnetic force between them, the halo of control and power and desire that kept it orbiting around the nucleus of him, it’s owner, it’s keeper, it’s reason for being and upon whom itIt came to him silently, gracefully, eagerly. It came to him on it’s hands and knees, driven by need and summoned by the irresistible magnetic force between them, the halo of control and power and desire that kept it orbiting around the nucleus of him, it’s owner, it’s keeper, it’s reason for being and upon whom it bestowed it’s worship and devotion.
He relaxed, his muscles and tendons loosening as the tension of the outside world began to fade, being replaced by the familiar contentment that came with discarding the roles he was forced to play out there, outside this place, away from it. His blood began to rush, anticipating the euphoria that would soon take the place of contentment, and he slowed his breathing, controlling it, knowing there was plenty of time and opportunity to let the euphoria build, to unlock his own cage, the cage in which he willingly kept the beast confined until the time was right.
It continued its journey, eager and anxious to close the divide between it, insignificant and powerless, and the glowing, pulsing source of its pleasure and purpose. But it understood, utterly accepted, that it’s own need and eagerness were of no importance at all, and that it must concentrate fully on pleasing, must obey without hesitation or flaw his desire for it’s movements to demonstrate grace and agility. And so it’s desperate desire was set aside, channeled into the effort and focus required to ensure the flexing of each muscle was intentional, the movement of every limb and finger fluid. Closer it came, feeling the warmth of his power grow as it did, a radius of control and dominance that filled the room and into which it would melt, ceasing to exist outside of his desires and needs. Silently, gracefully, not a single clink of chain or errant hair allowed to cause him the slightest displeasure.
Finally, after a journey which its desperate desire stretched into eons, a gulf that seemed nearly as wide as the oceans it would gladly have traversed to be in this spot, it was before him. It was still, perfectly posed to project the desire and gratitude and humility it knew could never be adequately expressed in any form, such were their depth and intensity. Its perfect stillness was interrupted only by the slightest rise and fall of its breathing, controlled to be as minimal as possible, because even its breathing was subject to his will and less important than his pleasure. It’s eyes remain downcast by order, but it knew that gazing upon him, upon such a vessel of power and object of worship, would have been nearly impossible anyway. How could it sully such perfection, such power, such a superior being with the imperfection, the inferiority of its own lowly gaze.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/g54ggo/vignette_ds_mf