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A Letter To Sir

By: mLadytini



I come to the room, seeing Him sitting in His chair, her at His feet. My eyes look at Him. My body trembles, as this is a big step for me to take. I touch the collar that is around my neck, put there by Him, to remind me of my submission. The cuffs and ankle cuffs around my wrists and ankle match the collar I wear. The smell of sweet, soft leather, that is always with me. My body covered in a shear black, slave type dress; that would show my bare ass and pussy as I walk or crawl.

Looking at the T/two of T/them, I know I have made the right decision. Slowly I walk to T/them. My handshakes for now fear is running threw me. Am I ready for this? Can I do this? I kneel before Him, taking His hand, bringing it to my lips kissing the palm. I hold it to my cheek, to feel His warmth and His strength. I remove my hand from His. Taking her hands I lean to her kiss her cheek. She knows something is on my mind, she senses me, as does He.

As I look back and forth between the T/two of T/them, a tear slowly falls from my eye. He looks down at me, and wipes the tear from my eye. Her concern is peaking, yet she waits to speak.

"What is on your mind?" He looks directly into my eyes. I can not help but to shiver. I reach behind me in to the belt on my smock. Holding an envelope in my hand.

"Here, Sir, please read this." my voice quivering as I speak. I hold the envelope up to Him. He takes it looking at it in wonder. Opening it slowly, pulling out the many pages.

It reads:

Dear Sir:

I have sat back in wonder and in amazement of You; for I submitted to You. I watch how You are with us both. I will never be able to thank Y/you B/both enough for bringing me into this. Through the B/both of Y/you, I have found the strength and the heart to write again. It may only be in this letter to You, Sir, but, none the less, I am writing for the first time for me, not for someone else.

You, Sir have let me in to help you, to help her, to help myself. As the D's lifestyle is always truly about learning it never ends. But, relationships do.

I love her. Yet, I can not love You. As, You will not let me. I hold back my love for You. For fear of rejection, fear that You do not really see me as who I am. I give You my submission, my trust, my loyalty, my friendship. You take it all, and give me much. All, but Your love, yet I need to be loved. Not just cared about and not just safe. I understand my being switch has caused You great stress. That You know it and understand it yet can not completely deal with it. I am sure it has now cost me dearly. 

I watch You with her. You amaze me how You reach her, how You touch her. I don't believe Y/you T/two brought me into this to be a learning post. But, I feel I have become one. I am but a voice and a body that is used to teach that is used to learn on. But, I do have needs as well. Between B/both of Y/you, Y/you try to reach them all. But, she can not love me the way I need to be loved. Only, my Dom can do that. As, much as He cares for me; He, Sir as in You, does not love me. She is everything to You. I don't blame You and I don't blame her. As, I myself love her like no other. She is a wonderful person, friend and submissive, truly a sister. But, she fills Your heart. She is Your heart. There is no room for me in it.

I do not hate You, Sir nor do I hate her. I see the love between the T/two of Y/you. It is beautiful and it is wonderful. But to be three, A/all must love, feel love and be loved. When one is left out they become the third wheel. I know I am the third wheel. That pains me to say it, but the truth is the truth. 

I have asked You to reach out to me, to let me in. Your hand comes out so far, then I am left empty. But, some how I still know You care. That is what kept me here for so long. The hope, the hope Sir, You could reach me and love me. But, some things are not meant to be. I have to stand up. I have to move out of the ways so that the journey that began, for Y/you T/two will move and grow as a relationship does. My being here will do nothing but stunt it. As, precious time would keep revolving around my needs. Not letting the relationship continue, as You wish it to Sir.

Please, do not hate me, Sir. Please, help her not to hate me. I will never let her leave my heart, as she is, has she always has been apart of me. I hope, Sir I have touched You in ways too, good and wonderful ways. As, Your knowledge, Your humor, and many things of You go with me.

I hope and wish that Y/you B/both would think of me fondly from time to time. As I will always think of Y/you.

Good bye A girl

I watched His face, His eyes, as He read the letter. I saw hurt, but yet I saw pride in His eyes. He folded it and looked at me. His head tilted down ward. I think, for the first time, I knew that I was something to Him. I looked up to Him, knowing, knowing that I had touched Him some way somehow. I knew, more than ever I was making the right choice, for U/us A/all. I looked at her; yet she did not have a clue. 

More tears trickled down my cheeks as I looked at her. For I was going to miss someone very special to me. I brought my leg forward, bending it at the knee removing the cuff around my ankle. Placing it on the floor. As she watched, tears started to come from her eyes. Yet she did not question. I removed the other ankle cuff. Then, started to take of the wrist cuffs, placing then on the floor as well. Her tears have now become cries. My hands came up to my neck as I undid my reminder of my submission. I held it in my hand shaking as I looked at it. Knowing that by removing it I would never be apart of His heart. That hurt me, so much I cried. I sobbed like a child. I picked up all the leather pieces and held them out to Him. My body trembling, I heaved from the tears. He moved His hand outward and I placed them in His hand. Bending His fingers around them, letting Him hold the bindings that bound me to Him. They were nothing more than symbols. As, I realized, He did have my heart, but could not accept it. I leaned and kissed this hand, which taught me and guided me. As, I got up on my feet; I bend down and kiss the top of her head. I smiled down at her.

"Love, Him for Him, love Him always. As this Dom, your Dom, dear one, loves you like no one else. No one but you belongs in His heart." My words slurred as I cried.

"Sir, may I kiss Your cheek one more time?" My words almost not understandable, as I cried so hard. He nodded His head. I bent and kiss His cheek. "Good bye."

I walked away from the T/two of them, knowing I hurt like hell, but knowing I had done the right thing for U/us A/all.

A Letter to Sweetness - My Wife



de·va·da·si [ de·va·da·si ] (plural de·va·da·sis) - a member of a hereditary class of woman dancers in a Hindu temple. 

Direct Sanskrit translation devadāsī - "woman servant of a deity"

"The term 'Devadasi' evokes a mystical past, replete with devotion, and dedication of girls to deities, refrains of soaring music and sensuous dances that attracted the patronage of kings and commoners. They were dedicated for a life of service as a child to a number of Hindu deities with the Lord Krishna and Lord Shiva and the Lady Kama sometimes their personal Gods. They practiced a form of the Hindu Devadasi religion that gave expression through pleasure to men as part of their religious faith and by being the perfect compliment to men's lingam, both physically and spiritually. The experience of Tantric ecstasy with a devadasi brought increased health and vigor to the mind, body and soul of any man who needed spiritual or physical renewal." -- on-line dictionary.

"The Devadasi is married to the Gods, and our love and affection for the Male Deities is genuine. As each man is in someway an incarnation of the Male Deity, we can truly express affection for any man. My gifts are not learnt, but are the consequence of my genuine relationship with the Gods." -- a quote from an ancient Sanskrit text.

…

My Sweetness…

I came across this word -- devadasi - the other day as I was searching for a Sanskrit symbol to represent our relationship and the infinite facets that seem to be spilling out of our life together: our connection that has grown so strong that separation from you seems … unimaginable. And yet, the mystique and eroticism of you grows stronger each day.

Devadasi women in ancient India were powerful individuals not bound by marriage to anyone man, but rather to the deities. Other cultures also had such strong, independent unmarried women figures whose sexuality and eros was seen as the revelation of the divine to be worshipped and experienced. The Sumerians had their High Priestess who conducted fertility rituals imbued with their sensuality and sexuality taking lovers as part of the divine worship. Just like the High Temple priestess of the ancient Sumerians, a devadasi was someone who could combine power and sublime servitude into a transforming moment for her lover and her deity that the temporary companion represented.

This concept has been pushed aside in modern times. Worship of the sensual and sexual deity has changed to austere reverence of the metaphysical. The old way is consider vulgar and the practitioners equated with prostitution and sinful lust. And truthfully, the institutions that gave birth to such a role corrupted it. Priest began to use devadasi for their monetary benefit and power fulfilling the prophecy of the critics.

However, why does a male psyche keep a flame lit for such women?

For a strong woman full of sensuality and with a powerful commitment of spiritual service to the divine arouse us men like no other. Watching you walk through the crowd in the night heat at the art festival last summer brought that feeling to the front for me: ornate in splendor yet quietly walking through the crowd of people. Speaking to others in respective tones, willing to listen, and even absorb critique but in the end causing them to believe in you and your ideas. You project a woman's strength, beauty, erotic power and spiritual service all in a single moment just as I imagine devadasi of old did.

And that projection causes me to desire you more -- as my lover fulfilling my desires, but also as your admirer longing to be quietly at your feet while you to serve all you want to serve. Strength attracts. My paradox as a man -- the strong being with animal desires that so unbalance us -- can find rest in such a shadow. Though we may not have a direct public role for such powerful sensual women anymore in our modern society, that persona lurks near the surface potentially being realized through private lovers' play.

As I learn more about the world and myself, I can understand my desires better through the tantric lens of devadasi. As I said before, the power of you is your confidence and service. You bring to all your personas this balanced grace, and this includes when you echo the spirit of a devadasi. So as your man, I at times find my immature spirit desiring you as something to sooth my ego and insecurities. You are attractive, you are with me, and I will show the other men how good it is by sharing you even if only through their eyes. 

Still, at other times, I do feel this acknowledgement that your grace is bigger than just soothing me. The potential of your sensuality is awe inspiring, and connected with divine play. You can provide solace and a divine moment for any male if you so desire. And strangely, this brings me greater erotic feelings than just showing you off. Actualizing this potential through play and, if you so desire, your temporary bonding with other men is mesmerizing.

Though logic and reason cannot explain it, the more I read about devadasi there more I sense that concepts are part of how I see us. My desire to share you can transcend to something more attuned to worship - worshipping your feminine strength and power wrapped in service and pleasure. Your spirit is that bold in my eyes.

Whoa…Crazy I know, but I just felt it reading about devadasi…