She barely understands it.
It is a desire to serve.
A hunger to yield, to bend, to give, to allow herself to be controlled.
A need to submit, To comply, to assent, to acquiesce. It is an itch, an ache, a yearning.
She is compelled by some deep inner want, some unfathomable need. some almost primal desire to yield up her submission.
To render up all her power.
She has craved such wondrous, glorious authority over her for as long as she can remember. Before the budding of her breasts, before the flow of blood, before passion, before the longing between her thighs.
Yet it could never be anyone. It had to be him. It always had to be him.
She has waited forever for his presence. For his strength, his certainty, his discipline, his protection.
For him to do with her as he will.
Mind, body and soul.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Art by Fabian Perez
I wrote this a good few years ago. Yet it has always been true. For a submissive soul.