From lmartell Fri Apr  9 14:06:51 1993
From: lmartell
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage
Subject: Totality and surrender.
Status: OR


Today, Good Friday. A light so pure you could drink it enwrapped me,
this morning, and I went out looking at the world with eyes full of
surprise and candor.  Energy in nature was almost palpable. I enjoyed,
as a christian and as a pagan, thinking about death and resurrection
with the most clear mind of my life.

New leaves and shining branches smiled at me, and I felt the breath
of the Earth sweet and soft as an infant's embrace. When I entered
the church, when I kneeled I felt at peace with all the Universe;
I understood, I saw again that without suffering birth was not
possible, I felt in every remote particle of my soul that my choice
was perfectly right for me, that my path of pain was a blessing.

At home I washed myself. I looked at my body, pierced, tattooed
and bruised in love for my Master. I was breathing because my Lord
permitted me to live; I was marked because He found pleasure in
underlining His possession of me; I wore my scars as the most
precious of my jewels, because He carved me with His knife as a
work of art, because I was moulded by His fire: I really felt the
exhilarating joy of being His treasure, His masterpiece.

Again I looked at my body; the body of the most abject slave, and
the body of the most demanding Lady at the same time. The last burn
my Lord gave me in San Francisco was all covered by a red crust.
I tormented it with my nails until some drops of new blood were
flowing: I caressed the fluid of life with my delicate fingers,
savouring the silken living texture of it. My blood, the blood of
a mother, the blood of the Earth.

A poetry without name possessed me, a wind without borders transported
me, a light without end blinded me. "I am not ashamed - I thought
- to be what I am. I relish in my slavery, I'm proud of it. And I
feel peace an beauty in my Ladyship, in my severity, even in my
cruelty. I enjoy to be what I am. If I should die in these moments,
I should feel no regret:  all I did I did for love."

It is love when Alex cuts me, it is love when He spills my blood,
when He whips me and my screams reach the sky. It is love when He
burns me or puts me on fire for brief moments, and I become one
holy thing with the flame. It is love when He slaps my face, grabbing
my hair in a masterful grip, when my Lord feeds me chosen morsels,
or offers me the water of life.  It is love when my Master beats
me until his arm aches, and until rivers of tears have streamed
down my cheeks.

It is love when I dominate him, drinking his submission as an eagle
kills its prey, cruel and innocent at the same time. It is love
when I push his limits, and I make him scream, when his beloved,
beatiful eyes are full of pain as the sea is full of water. It is
love when I whip his back until is red and full of bruises, it is
love when I bite him as a tigress bites a lamb. It is love, beauty,
poetry - it is - totality. More than this - it is - SURRENDER.

My perfect slave has taught me the exact meaning of this word. When
I desire something from him, he not only gives to me that thing:
he enjoys doing this, he loves doing this, notwithstanding how
difficult, or strange, or unpleasant the request can be. It is not,
for my beloved, an effort: it is a fluid and liquid movement of
the soul, a total surrender, as natural as a flower which is opening
and blossoming under the warm rays of the sun.  Again, as a flower:
with beauty, poetry and love.

My life in his hands, his life in mine. And all the universe to
explore, all the stars to reach, and limits to surpass, mountains
to climb, pains to enjoy, dreams to fulfill, ideals to make as real
as our breaths - TOGETHER!. All is possible if you really THINK is
possible.  All is poetry and beauty, if poetry and beauty are filling
the cup of your heart; and all is one, all is holy, if you only
have the courage to recognize the light and the godhead in you.
Thank you, my Lord, for having given me this.


Blessed be, in love, light, and beauty,
	Laylah