...And he Does

I say, "Take off your shirt," and he does.
"Take off your pants," and he does.
"Take off your socks," and he does. 

"Take off your underwear," he hesitates, but obeys just the same, folding them and neatly stacking them as instructed before we began. "Kneel, like I taught you." Like the good little automaton he is, he gets on his knees, palms turned upwards on his knees, back straight, legs slightly parted, chin up, eyes down. "Breathe." The gentle reminder causes him to relax into the stance for a second, before his brain kicks in again. 

That damned brain - if only I had a switch to turn it off and let him be present, here, with Me. I've see the smile on that man's face when he obeys, when he offers his money, his time, his body to Me to do with as I please. If I want to dance, he dances. If I want to eat, he cooks. If I want to punish him, he prostrates. All I have to do is be honest with him about what will make Me happy, and he makes Me happy. 

So simple - so intuitive.

The sight before Me is breathtaking - a willing, eager slave, hard and trembling, so vulnerable and ready to be Mine. In that moment, I can see the truth of our Dynamic. There is no 'him' and 'Me' - he belongs TO Me. Everything he has, I have, gladly. The joy he feels is the joy he brings Me by the services he provides. The reason he exists is to make Me happy. 

Finally, after too long, I reach out and stroke his cheek. Almost immediately, he leans into it while maintaining as much of the posture as possible. Then, breaking protocol, he looks into My eyes, pleading. "Eyes." With a look of apology, his eyes return to the ground. Gently, My finger puts his chin back where it belongs, the eyes continuing to stay downcast. "Good boy." The grin flushing his face warms My soul. 

This is where I belong - correcting and improving My slave. My slave. Mine.