"Slave."

It sometimes seems like every day with Syr I discover some new, often incredibly simple yet powerful, route to reaching that deep subspace.

In my previous experiences, it always seemed to get harder and harder to find and maintain subspace of any depth worth mentioning. It became quite frustrating because the harder it got to get there, the more i craved or rather, needed to get there. This used to cause all manner of conflict and difficulties with my partner at that time.

I'm sure that it created issues for them, a sort of frustration when what used to work for them, seemed to stop working as well, and when my needs seemed to increase and their part of it, their job got harder and harder.

My relationship with Syr is quite the opposite. I am often caught quite off guard by sudden and unexpected drops into subspace that plummet me at a pace that is almost dizzying.

The other night, Syr took me there during what would have otherwise been an incredibly fun, yet quite simple, "quickie", by Her words alone.

It started familiarly, as She reminded me who I belong to, words that always take me into a level of subspace...

As She continued, Her words became moreraw, more intense, whispering to me, reminding me that I am Her slut, Her whore, and Her slave...

And then, She made me repeat each statement back to Her. My voice shook desperately as She wrapped Her hands in my hair and demanded I speack each aloud.

Afterwards, SHe honed in on the word slave which, though it describes my role quite honestly, is a word used more rarely by comparison to others in the past. It was the only word She used for teh rest of our time together that night and each time She said it, it took me deeper and deeper.

The words resonated and jolted through me. I still remember the way I reacted with pure raw physical and instinctual shivers each time She growled "cum, slave" in my ear.

Unlike other times, when I am called by that word, I instinctually reply... calling Her Syr without even thinking about it. When I am reminded that I am Her slave, it is only natural to me to call Her Syr.

This may seem simple, but it really isn't. The thing is, that other times, I often have to think about it.. and thinking can be bad. I second guess, doubt, or get shy about using a word that I so desperately want to use.

Yet when she calls me slave, so seriously like that, it's all I can do not to melt into a puddle of slavey goo right there in Her arms, or at Her feet.

I wonder what it is about that one little word, that seems to change the way I function and operate. Because that is surely what it does. I stop functioning as the everyday me. I let all of that go and really allow myself to become the soft, pleasing slave that I dream of being.

I'm sure that it bears further scrutiny, but then again, perhaps in cases like these it is better just to enjoy the lovely simple and pure result of the use of a word that surely speaks straight to my heart.