Make them Long for Me
Goddess Ezada Sinn wrote:
“Make them Long for Me.”
“you are truly and totally Mine!”
Long for You?
Desire, a sense of longing, an emotion of craving.
Dear Stapana
Do You have any realistic grasp of how firmly and with such depth Your talons have sunk themselves below the surface of sit’s flesh. Upon hearing Your voice, viewing Your image, or sensing Your presence, is there any other state that the predicament of “Longing for You?” The weight You place every day on my bones crushes my spine to dust. The fire from Your dominant Female essence has all but boiled and nearly burned away my blood. i am positive that You invade every second of sleep in the same throughout manner in which You exercise sovereignty and supremacy over my precious moments of being awake.
“Longing for You” is too volatile a chaos, all consuming in effort, and energy. A brutal collision of my bodily needs to intersect with my mental well being. In “Longing for You,” for the Goddess Ezada Sinn, the dripping aspiration of my hedonistic cravings no longer focus upon my pleasure. “Longing for You,” becomes a pensive moment of mirrored reflection, grasping the reality that Your pleasure is solely the card that remains trump, always ready to be played.
Stapana, i cry when i “Long for You.”
The hunger is so strong that You ascend to the solitary focus my soul yearns to crawl and crumble before. Yet in the act of “Longing for You,” my desire is positively not thwarted or unrequited. As in kind, it is Goddess’s pleasure and passion that are paramount and must be satisfied.
Has my “Longing for You,” the need to serve, to submit, capitulate, to be by Your sacred side; burrowed in so profoundly that i have become a prisoner of Goddess Ezada in the darkest recesses of my own mind? Have You raped me of any freewill? Being broken by You whip creates drama, the pain You inflict blossoms forth a stream of earnest empathy between the two bodies connected at either end of the leather strands. However, what lasts and lingers far longer are not the welts You rise, but the crisis of human emotion You have stirred inside me. A crossroad that rumbles unabated as seconds pass into hours and days transverse in months.
The “Longing for You,” to be totally Yours, to be at Your physical side, is a hunger that never ceases or subsides. A pit so fathomless that the only way forward is to remain true to the path Owner Herself has laid out. Moments during Altar Worship in mantra reflection, should happily bind my thoughts to You. Yet, nowadays the cravings of kneeling at Your physical feet take over and the distance apart crushes. The hunger to move on, move forward in reaching total slavery under You upstages any hope of finding stillness in servitude.
sit’s hands and lips tense with contraction when my mind reels with the desire to wake up and kiss Your feet. To serve You coffee in bed. To be Your earnest toilet. To stay in wait till You rise, and i can show respect by kissing Your foot’s arch. To put on Your shoes or boots. To take them off. To walk behind You. To stay in heel, when commanded in public. To unquestionably and without hesitation honor Your spoken command.
To obey.
To concede.
To capitulate.
To surrender in full.
All the while my soul soars, my life blossoms, and blooms.
In the end do i “Long for You?”
Yes.
Would i offer You my throat?
Yes.
Would i offer You my hunger?
Yes.
Will i starve without You?
Yes
Do i love You?
Yes.
Again, do i love You?
Yes.
Goddess Ezada Sinn wrote: “Make them Long for Me.”
Well Stapana mea, i and they already do.