He is my everything. He gives me everything I need. I can feel him everywhere. Even when he’s away fighting fires. It destroys me a little bit every day when I watch him walk out the door. Because I know that he is going out to stare straight into the gates of hell.
But, as long as he comes back to me, I can survive the anxiety. I look forward to his return for more than just confirmation of his safety. It’s especially at those times that we give each other what we each crave. Pain. Lustful, deviant, fulfilling pain. My masochistic submissive side screams out for his sadistic domination.
However, there is another voice in me, screaming for attention. I suppress that voice, though. It has no place in our perfect dynamic. Because we are just that. Perfect. As long as I have him, I have everything. He is the very air I breathe…my oxygen.