A Letter to My Mistress

Here's a letter I wrote my Mistress:






Dear Miss ____,

I miss you so much already and it's only been a matter of minutes.  My roomie just got home so I said hi as quick as possible, shooed the dogs in her direction, and ran off to my room to jump headfirst into a daunting task... How can someone like me, unworthy, pathetic, a worthless whore... impress perfection?  What impresses the best?  Could Michael Moore impress Martin Scorcese?  I think not.  Yet I think you for the opportunity, for allowing me the attempt, for giving me an outlet for my emotion instead of just laying in bed, tossing and turning thinking about you and wishing you were here, wishing I could talk to you, wishing for you to even torture me (and not in an enjoyable way), to force me to do things I don't like just to be with you.

Imagine, for a moment... that my sex life / love life, or whatever is physically embodied... manifested... a tangible representation of the intangible.  It's a playground, a giant, sprawling playground.  And every woman I've ever had a fleeting thought about, even just a fantasy is there.  English teachers, actresses, porn stars, my hookups, my flings, my ex's... they're all there.  And you're there too, but you can instantly tell there's something wrong with the picture.  You look out of place, you're not like them.  They swing on swings and slide down slides, playing schoolyard games like hop scotch, double dutch... gossiping and starting drama and pulling each other's hair, vying for my attention in vain.  It's hopeless.  Pointless.  Futile.  There's only one I care about... An adult amongst children.  A shepherd amongst sheep.  A queen amongst peasants.   A Goddess deserving of worship and servitude.  When you speak, you demand attention.  When you act, you command respect.  They start crying, bawling like the babies they are before you dismiss them and they leave, forever.

They're gone.  They're gone because of you.  Because no matter how many I meet, all of them combined couldn't even hold a candle to your love's light, its warmth.  It's just me and you on this playground... free to do as we please.  The way I've always wanted it to be.  And the world IS a playground for you, Miss, isn't it?  It's rare someone can do whatever they want, the world powerless to stop them because she's so powerful.  I've never seen it before and I know I'll only see it again by seeing you again.  And I want to see you again and again.  I want to be in your playground forever, to serve you and love you.  Learn from you and yearn for you.  I never had many role models, I never had many lovers, and there aren't many people I've respected absolutely... someone I'd carry out their every request or demand unquestioningly, lovingly even.  I've never had a teacher, a role model, a lover, and a heroine all in one, let alone also be the best in every category hands down.  

I've never felt such a sense of belonging as I have at your feet, Miss _____.  Anywhere else I feel out of place.  It doesn't feel right.  It's uncomfortable, I don't want to be there, and I constantly long to get back to my place, my home beneath you.  I worship you and aspire to emulate you because although I know I'm infinitely unworthy and no one could ever be like you let alone someone as insignificant as myself, I know imitation is the greatest form of flattery, the highest display of gratitude.  So I beg you Miss _____, please.... oh Goddess please please please.... for the sake of all that I am, for the sake of my future, for the sake of having meaning and purpose... please keep guiding me.  Teaching me, pushing me, testing me, molding me, and owning me.  Fully, completely... Mind, body, heart, soul, existence, past present and future.  I want you to have it all.  I want to be yours.  I long to be yours.  Without you, I'm alone in a pointless playground, with every distraction like swings and slides broken and dilapidated.  But even if they were in great condition as they were now, it would be ruined without you to experience them with me.  I always want to be by your side... but I know I'm not good enough so I pray to be under your feet.  To bend for you, to break for you, to bend over for you, to cry for you, to vie for you, to die for you.  Miss _____.  I'm yours, completely and helplessly.  Always and forever.

Love and Punish,

R,

Any suggestions?  Thoughts?  Part of what I love so much about my Mistress is the tenderness...  It's not all beatings and punishment... she's very kind, too.  Beyond just the obvious like, "You're so kind for just giving me a chance, for even speaking to me, for beating me," etc...  She's just genuinely a great fucking person and it keeps me feeling constantly blessed.