dvntsprite

I try to wash my eyes of the memories the images stained like decorative glass in my mind; Forever lost in but a few sweet moments that I can not destroy. Rain clouds come to fog my mind and rain down reality leaving behind flood waters of raw emotion. Left with only thought in an empty room and a silent answer from a voice that never comes; I've been here listening. Yesterday was today and tomorrow never got here; All the days melting together because nothing ever really changes. Soothing myself to sleep laying on mental razor blades cutting at me deeper every night they're allowed to rest beneath my breasts I feel they'll cut my heart to shreds. On the full moon I've laid in the field and I have seen the tall grass through past eyes; Running trying to find you, trying to find that moment that I can not destroy, trying to reclaim those memories stained into my mind like decorative glass.

I do not even wish this anguish upon a thousand hated enemies. The voice never ceasing, the voice of reason and the voice of regret always taunting me during waking hours. I've come to look at things through distant eyes hiding my heart some place soft and dark; I left it there with your eyes - Can you see? Years without your touch yet I can still feel you in my thoughts; The feeling once held beloved by me now has become my torture. For all the tears I've cried the floor they've landed upon is cold and unforgiving; If these walls could talk they would have a tale to tell that would take far too long to say in simple words. When you beckoned me before I came to you; My heart has been beckoning ever since you took me; I would lay down the walls that I've built up around myself but I would never be able to pick them up by myself once they've been allowed to flood out of their confines; All the decorative glass falling to pieces.

Under your hand I have surrendered:

I did some hard thinking today. I thought back to just the emotions that flowed trough me during my first -real- scene. I thought about all of the different thoughts that occurred during it; How my brain would fight with itself. “Do you want him to stop?” - “Yes”/”No” - “Are you embarrassed?” - “Yes”/”No” - It was as if there were two of me inside of my brain. “Can you give up all control to him? You’re slipping away..” - “No, I wont..I can’t.” / “Yes, you can, you are”.

Then I remember lying there, my ass on fire, tears welling up in my eyes, one streaked down my cheek and I heard him distantly ask me if I wanted him to stop. There was that moment of control; I was in control of this now, the power shifted. At first it was the same.. “Yes please stop, I can‘t take anymore.” I thought. Then “No, please…don’t stop.. Make me cry..make me suffer for your pleasure.” Just as the thought passed my mind I struggled against my bonds.. They weren’t going anywhere… an overwhelming sensation came over me and I just closed my eyes - as the words passed through my thoughts I feel my body reacted

“I’ve struggled to be free; And I can not. I have struggled to not slip away, but I am. I have struggled with my thoughts, unsure. I’m not struggling anymore………. I surrender.” And surrender I did: Under his hand.

By: Eve Ruso aka dvntsprite

(long) 

I suppose that the first thing someone would have to understand about me is that I am very free spirited, and free willed. I know, I know. How can a slave be free spirited and free willed? Quite easily. There is absolutely no reason why a slave should ever feel the need to conform to any one practice, ritual, thoughts, observations or otherwise from someone else who is a slave, a submissive, or even Dominant unless that person is THAT slaves Dominant. With that being said, I could never be with a Master who would wish to break me of my free spirit, and free will. I have thoughts, emotions, needs, that flow through me so freely, so wild, so primal. These things make me what and who I am. Any Master who should wish to take this from me is simply not the Master I wish to serve. I wish for a Master to choose me as his slave because he wishes ME to be his slave, not merely because he wishes to have a ‘shell’ of me serve his needs. I shall never be a mindless robot, for anyone, to anyone.

The name sprite came one day when I was asked to describe myself in one word. Sprite was the first and only thing that I could think of. I am feisty, I am playful, humorous, intelligent and curious. At the same time that I may appear to be quite strong, I can honestly tell you that just like any other creature with beyond paper thin wings I am fragile. While my will, my spirit, my inner fire may lead me in unimaginable ways there are still ways in which I can indeed become very broken and frail.

Now that we’ve covered the core essence of myself, I would like to go over the other aspects of what makes me who and what I am. These are things that will NEVER, change. This will always be what makes me, me. Of course as I age and progress through the journey of my life some things will change, I understand this; But these things simply will never waiver.

Above all else I am a Masochist. I have since childhood had an uncanny craving and need for pain. I have in the past gone through stages of self harm for no other goal than to achieve the ‘high’ associated with my Masochistic nature. When I first began having sex, it transitioned from self harm to asking my lovers to be rough with me. I would have them pull my hair, bite me, scratch me, slap me, anything to give me the pain I was after. As my life progressed, I realized that my Masochistic tendencies were not only tendencies, it was a deep mental ‘release’ of anguish for me. All of the internal pain, mental anguish I had felt I noticed faded whenever I was hurt. As I began my journey into the BDSM Lifestyle I found myself wanting to have my threshold pushed further, my limits tested and strained. I have come to the point now where sometimes, I simply want someone to make me cry. I want them to make me cry out in pain until that’s the only sensation I have left. As I said, I truly am, a Masochist. This is a part of me that will never change.

I am submissive by nature and I am a slave at heart. I derive 95% of my pleasure through the pleasure of who I am with and I always have. While no one, not even my Master could change the core of me, I am still very moldable. With others whom are not my Master, I tend to be very playful, very joking. However I am usually not so openly joking with my Master, my humor is toned down to a very respectable level with him. While my demeanor may change with my Master, my core never does. He knows, that at any time he can see me be the fiery, spirit filled ‘sprite’ that I am. He also knows that if he wishes it of me, I will be his quiet obedient dog, knelt by his feet with loyalty. When I am with a Master, I have very few personal needs. The only personal need aside from the basics (Such as shelter, warmth, food, health, etc etc.) would be my Masochism. I feel I would fall apart without the pain. At the same time, I feel WHOLE when I feel a man’s Dominance over me, his complete control. I do live to feel helpless under him. I bathe in the knowing that whatever my Master wishes of me, I will do without question. I do not seek a Dominant with likes that are exactly the same as my own. There is a thrill in wondering if your Master will make you do something you do not usually (or ever) like to do. For instance, I don’t like scat, I don’t like piss, I don’t care for my vaginal blood on my period; However if my Master pissed on me, or made me lap up the blood from his cock I would HAPPILY do so. Please do not confuse ‘happily do so’ with enjoy it. Remember, I still don’t LIKE those things. I may even cry when he does it out of embarrassment, or detest of it but I am still going to DO IT. How can you be truly devoted to your Master if you are not willing to do something for him even if you don’t like it? In my opinion, you can’t be.

Someone once made the best analogy. “My slaves are like a well trained dog to me.” And I whole heartedly agree with the statement. Then, someone asked “How could you ever treat a slave like a dog.” It’s quite simple. People who raise well trained dogs CARE for those dogs. They have invested their time, their hard work, their passion into those dogs. Most often such dogs wear beautiful collars, sleep in their own bed, eat some of the best food over any other dog. So let us say that women are all dogs. Slaves are well trained dogs. That well trained dog is being taken better care of over those other dogs. The Master of the dog still cares about the dog, treats it well, it’s not like you beat and abuse a dog you spent so much of an investment with. Remember; Half of this lifestyle is all in how you look at it. To me, anyway.

When I am collared and marked by my Master there is one word that will never be available for me to say to him as an answer to a request or demand. That word is NO. It simply does not exist in my vocabulary under such situation. There is no “Will not”, “Would not”, “Will never”. While slaves today are OFTEN and (supposed to not be) treated in such a fashion of whipping them until their skin breaks and bleeds, maiming, scarring, or undergo other such simply brutal treatment; The core base of a slave still exists. We still take pain for our Master’s for no other reason than their simple enjoyment and pleasure. We still live to serve our Master’s. We still endure punishments and disciplines and mold to his desires and liking. Very little has changed in what I believe to be the true way of a slave. Very little has changed in the way of being a Master.

So in short; Other than knowing my past, other than knowing all of my ‘dirty little secrets’. Other than perhaps having seen or touched my body, known my sorrows and my other small joys in life; You have here seen who and what I am at the core of me. The rest is simply conversation………………………

sprite~