Confession - Silk Arcana

Love in Steel


This is not easy for me to give a shape to the vastness of the feelings that fill and consume me..ones that shape and define me...so here is the depths of my feelings and the profound truth thereof.

What does my slavery mean to me..All !!..Everything !!....i chose Your collar i begged for Your collar...it is not so much that i want the collar but rather that i need the collar..need it as much as the air, to breathe..need it with a fierce and pure passion.

When i write this i weep and i rage..weeping for the joy that Your collar,... that being owned by my Mistress brings, me with every heartbeat of every moment of every day..

without a collar i would feel naked and abandoned..if i had no collar i think that i would have to tie a rope around my neck just to get thru the day

i rage because i do not have the ability to tell A/any what it means to me..i search and search but have only stupid words..spilling forth from me..clumsy and dull as bricks.

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Within me dwells the summation of all that i have ever been ,,many voices clamouring to be heard..crowding at my throat..desperate to speak....Their spirits move powerfully within me

singer..poet..fool...they are the path that has lead me here ..their time has come and gone and i banish them one and all ...

Then i start to strip off the layers of masks..layers that we all wear, the forms and positions that we take to show who and what we are ..the rules of greeting and protocol that we use..the thin and outward manifestations of what we ........i..... feel inside..one by one,
onion skins like i peel them away to reveal a new layer under the skin...

..and i cannot give a name to this except it is a mask..one i wear to protect myself from myself..some things are not meant to be known are for ones much wiser and gifted with better words than i to tell You the story...

There are layer after layer of masks..and the names and purposes of them have no meaning no relevance...i strip these useless, fear driven masks away until at last i come to what lies beneath..

the typist.

that poor, pale, hidden echo of me, who tries to put the words in my mouth...and often times he does....but not this time.

that fool that walked on to Chat for all the wrong reasons..looking for a cheap dom.. a dirty little thrill..never knowing.... never knowing what he would find in the final ending time .

first the friendship of Masters/Mistress and slaves...then the first encounters with a Mistress who wanted me..and my pretty mouthings...which were so good..i believed them myself
............i was a fool for a damn awful long time my Mistress

and then.....one night..i knew.....what i wanted..knew Whose' collar i wanted to bear. i knew that rainy night..when You put Your feet under me to warm them and then had me "table" to use as your footstool..i was bound to be Yours..

but that was still the typiest.

So i take off that mask as well..and God!..it's not easy !..the kiss of hot iron and whip are kinder and less painful...but i do it anyway..i endure..i give this to You as well...bear this pain both as an act of submission and as an explanation of what my slavery means to me.

i stand revealed before You and bares the boys naked soul to Your eyes


Because i have nothing i can give you nothing and i so WANT to give You something ..everything ! ....so keenly ache with that desire...the only thing that i can give You is what is in my heart and soul..because You own them utterly..

but still i do not have the words...just the thoughts and actions.

My thoughts lurch back and forth like a drunkard trying to stay on the path.

i have said this before and i say it again...i am no more that a glove upon
Your hand...it is You that fills me ..gives me volition and meaning,..i exist only for You and for Your pleasure and amusement..at Your direction.


That sweet steel which tenderly embraces and hold me..is a mercy that You let me have...wearing Your collar i have meaning and worth and i touch it all the time...feeling the words cut into my beloved collar...wondering how i came to be so honoured..so lucky..


rambling i cannot tell You how i feel only move blindly forward in a
fevered dream of feelings..i love my slavery..wanting nothing more than to be ever at your feet in submission...not even that..it makes me so happy to just kneel where You have been or to wait for You..kneeling
there..Your slave..and nothing more than that..Your slave..but Oh! how
great a thing that is to me..!

Sometimes i want to belly on the ground and kiss Your footprints as
they are tracked in the soft dust ..i don't love my slavery..love is
too pale a word to say what i feel...i howl inside with my need to be
a slave... and to say what it means to me

This is the best i can do to write what my slavery means to me.. all
of this joy this glory that burns white hot in me.

and these stupid, futile words..are no more than a single grain of sand
on a lone beach, of all the beaches, in all the worlds. when compared
to what i feel about being a slave.

No one will ever take Your collar from me..the only way it will be taken
is when they chop my cold dead hands off it.