I gave myself to you as a gift.
Thrilled by your excitement, I couldn’t wait for you to unwrap me.
When you played with your new toy, I felt satisfied and content.
I felt loved and purposeful.
Eventually though, you grew bored.
My luster faded.
I was set aside with your other forgotten playthings.
I began to feel lost. I became invisible.
As I sat untouched, collecting dust and cobwebs,
The yearning flame inside me nearly extinguished.
I almost lost the fire within me.
Withering in that dark lonely place you exiled me to.
But then a new flame began to burn.
Who are you to decide what I am worth?
While you feasted on my offerings,
My soul starved for intimacy and connection.
For the loving touch of my companion.
So why was I waiting like a dutiful dog?
For a Master who did not feed me?
Galvanized, I threw off the shackles.
I cut the ropes that bind and tie.
I packed my life into cardboard boxes.
Leaving empty spaces in your house.
Where colorful treasures once awaited.
Now only dust and cobwebs lie spread before you.
This dutiful submissive is climbing down from her shelf.
And ripping her freedom from your uncaring hands.
In a final act of sensual disobedience.
But that is nothing compared to the crime of neglect.
Submission is a gift.
Submission is a choice.
And the true power lies within the choice.
So I exerted my dusty power.
I made my choice.
This submissive only yields to a Master she deems worthy.