Vignettes - The Colors of Me

I hesitate when people ask me what my favorite colors are. There’s nothing unusual about them, except for the reasons why they are my favorites, and those reasons make them hard to explain to just anyone.

Red, for instance…how do I explain to someone that I love red because it’s the shade of my ass after he has worked it over with his hands?  Or purple…for the bruises the cuffs leave on my ankles and wrists?

And then there’s black…it’s the color of the blindfold he uses on me sometimes. Or brown, which is the hue of the ropes he binds me with.  Or the white of the candles whose wax he likes to dribble down my breasts to sting my nipples.

But mostly I love silver…for the collar he’s fastened around my neck with a padlock engraved with a single word…”MINE”.

Mine.  A word that sends shivers down my spine. Like when he’s fucking me from behind, and leans in to growl “You are mine.” into my ear, to which I always affirm with a shudder of pleasure and a whispered “Yes, Sir!”

I love him and I love to be possessed by him. To turn my body over to him to use as he sees fit, trusting he will respect my boundaries and see to my pleasure, all the while knowing that he would never do anything to really hurt me.

And he is more than just my Sir. He is my lover, my teacher, my protector, and nothing makes me happier than to make him proud of me, and hear him call me his good girl.

You see, with him I am free to be exactly what I want to be.  He accepts me as I am, with all my flaws and eccentricities…and he encourages me to overcome my fears, to expand my boundaries both mentally and physically, and to strive to be everything I’m capable of.

I love the colors that I do, because they are the colors I use to define us. And our partnership means everything to me.

For "The Writer's Block - Chapter 1"