“I used to think I knew what I wanted. I thought I understood myself. I told myself I had control. But the truth is, I don’t. I never did. And the more I tried to fight it, the clearer it became: I’m not like other people. Not in the way I need to be loved, not in the way I need to be seen.

I’m… I’m a submissive. A pet. A servant. And for so long, I denied it. Told myself I didn’t need it. That I could find happiness in something else, something simpler, more ‘normal.’ But, God… every time I tried, I felt… incomplete. Like I was wearing someone else’s skin. The weight of it was suffocating.

I’ve had… experience. I was lucky, really. There was someone. A Domme. She was everything I didn’t know I needed. Strong. Confident. Commanding. She took me in, showed me what it meant to truly surrender. To give up the illusion of control. To be… hers. I was hers, and I’ll never forget that feeling. Not the kind of ownership that leaves you empty, but the kind that fills you up. You understand? It was like I had found my place in the world for the first time.

It wasn’t a long time, not even close. It was short. But it was… intense. The kind of connection that burns you from the inside out. The kind that changes you. She knew how to make me feel… small, in the best possible way. Not small like I was worthless, but small like… like I didn’t need to carry the weight of the world anymore. She took that burden off my shoulders. She made me feel safe in my surrender. And I can’t tell you how much I miss that.

I miss the way she looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered. I miss the way she gave me tasks, simple ones, but with purpose. It wasn’t just about obedience. It was about devotion. The kind of devotion that goes beyond just doing what you’re told. It’s about wanting to do it. Wanting to be… perfect for her. Wanting to please her, to make her happy, to see that glint of satisfaction in her eyes when I did what I was supposed to.

It’s strange. People don’t get it. They don’t understand the power of submission. They think it’s about weakness. About being trampled on. But it’s not. Not to me. Not the way I see it. It’s about strength. It’s about trust. Real trust. To surrender everything to someone, to give up all your power and let them take the reins—that’s not easy. It’s not for the faint of heart.

She wasn’t cruel. Not in the way people think of cruelty. There was no malice in what she did. Everything was carefully measured, precise. It was the kind of control that made me feel… safe. The kind of control that made me trust her, more than I’ve trusted anyone in my life.

There’s a kind of clarity that comes with submission. A purity. When you know your role. When you know your place. It’s like… like you can breathe. Like you can finally let go. And when she would command me, when she would give me those small tasks, I would do them with this… this devotion. This certainty. It was a kind of peace I can’t explain. I didn’t have to question anything. I didn’t have to think. She led, and I followed. And in that, I found something more fulfilling than anything I’ve ever known.

But now… she’s gone. And I’m left here, craving that same connection. That same… purpose. I miss her. God, I miss her. I miss the way she would tease me, make me feel like nothing more than a plaything for her amusement. But it wasn’t degrading. It was intimate. There was a certain tenderness in it, a kind of affection I’ve never felt in any other relationship. She didn’t need me to be something I wasn’t. She didn’t need me to be her equal. She needed me to be what I am. A servant. A pet. And I… I wanted nothing more than to be that for her.

I’ve tried to move on. Tried to find someone else. But… there’s a void. No one else understands. They don’t get what I need. They don’t get what I crave. The feeling of being in someone’s power, of being shaped and molded by them. The feeling of being told what to do and doing it with all my heart, knowing that in pleasing them, I am fulfilling my purpose.

I don’t want to play games. I don’t want empty promises. I want someone who understands me. Who can take me in their hands and mold me, shape me into something… better. Someone who knows how to control me, how to make me theirs. Someone who can see the devotion in my eyes and appreciate it, not as something to take advantage of, but as a gift.

I need that again. I need to feel… needed. To feel like I am more than just a person. I need to feel like I am something to be used, something to be cherished, something to be controlled. And when that’s done right… when I give myself over fully… it’s the most fulfilling feeling in the world.

So here I am. Waiting. Hoping. Looking for the one who will take me back to that place, who will take me back to that… peace. I’m not looking for just anything. I’m looking for someone who knows how to take what I have to offer and make it their own. Someone who understands the power of submission. Who can take me, and control me, and make me feel like I am, once again, worthy of their attention.

I know what I need. I know what I want. And if you’re the one to give it to me… I’ll be yours.”