I want to see your eyes wide and glassy, vulnerable, your mouth in a pout and myself loom above you. I want to feel that you feel helpless, and that however I twist and pull you, you will follow.
I want to feel your desire, like an anchor chain, a need for me that would make you crawl on your belly for me, beg me, debase yourself and fight for me. I want to make you do all those things to prove to me what I can already tell by looking at you. I want you to fear me, just a little, as something you can never handle completely. I want there to be masochism, but balanced by both lust and a little rebellion.
I want male flesh. That means I want to feel my hand hold a solid jaw when I make you look me in the eye, and I want to feel muscles that are, by nature, stronger than mine when I push you down and make you yield and when my hands hold yours to the pillow, pushed over your head so I can loom and kiss you. I want you to be beautiful for me, to make your body into something you hope I will take as an offering, and something I will take from you. I want to see you stretched and stripped, taught to flinch when I touch you, yet crave to rest your head on my lap.
I want you to fight me, so I can break you, than take those shivering bits and pieces and put them back as strong as before. I want a tough toy that takes, claw and teeth and pain- I want a fragile toy that I can bend with a look. I want a victim- I don’t want to cosset and I don’t want to think about a “slave heart” when I strike you, nor wrangle whether you are a “natural submissive” or whether I, indeed, am True. I don’t want to be a Nice Mistress or a Goddess type role who leads you to a higher place; I want you to be outraged at the indignity and the liberty I am taking with your flesh, your mind and your self… and turned on by this. Consent is crucial, but I need you to have the imagination to feel vulnerable when you are perfectly safe with me.
And yet, as much as the resistance matters, I want you to want it so bad you admit it. Oh, I don’t mind if it’s not an easy confession, but one that has to be coaxed out of you under time or duress. But I want you to know you are mine. I want you to feel that you belong with me above all others, because I, myself can worry that I am to be found wanting.
That takes confidence, from you, to think of yourself as the best for me. I know it’s a lot to want in a partner, much less to want in a submissive. But, I also know I want you, warts and all, even when you’re not in the mood and what I need to do right now is be a supportive person more than a dom. Or when it’s incredibly complicated. I want you to be human and real. I want the effort more so than the perfection. I suppose a lot of it is wanting my wants to be validated. And in the end, I guess that’s what everyone wants.