doormat

the other day, a friend of my Mistress's stopped by for a visit. W/we had a great time chatting and so forth, but as the conversation strayed to other more personal areas, My Mistress invited her friend to take a swing at me and beat me.

"It's my form of therapy. and it's very helpful at relieving stress."

her friend refused to oblige and called me something which was troubling to me at first.

"No offense pescado, but you are a doormat."

"i know." i said.

as i have taken on the role of a submissive within my Mistress's home, i have noticed that my back bone has all but dissolved into putty. there are no acceptable arguments or disagreements with Her. What She says goes and there is no straying from that fact. showing attitude is an awful faux pa, and there is no good reason to question a decision She has thought long and hard about.

Her confidence and bravada astound me! She embodies and emboldens everything that i am not. it is almost as if She sucks the energy from me and grows stronger in will, determination. mental stamina and strength. i am little more than her shadow when W/we go to the grocery store, or on an errand of Hers. i seemingly fade from view as She dominantly takes over the scene and the stage. on many occasions, i am Her chauffeur, cart boy or the errand boy running hither and thither for Her. when She calls my name it is as if it has been slammed repeatedly across the pavement until only a blood stained mark remains. i have no leash or tether to speak of, but i am attached to Her by text and phone. as such,i always get a quiver that can turn to a shiver when She chooses to contact and summon me. many times i stumble over my feet trying to quickly respond to Her whims and wishes.

i am whipped and broken, and rightly so. Her needs and desires always come first. i am Her Bitch and could not be prouder. i am Her friend, but also Her loyal servant who relishes the opportunities to disappear, yet to serve.

my Mistress has walked over me and on top of me many times. She has wiped Her dirty feet on my body and on my face until bloody scratch marks emerge and my nose is bruised, swollen, and malformed. She has tromped through the deep recesses and crevices of my mind. I have felt both sneaker, boot heel, platform and barefeet, but it is the way in which She chooses to trample me mentally that has shaped and made me into the person i am today.

for many, a person wiping their feet physically upon you is a humiliating and degrading experience. this is true, but it is also nurtures a deeper bond between the Dominant and Her submissive.

it is the true nature of the submissive to serve. i proudly serve my Mistress in all realms, aspects, and experiences. She has but to call ... and i will be there.

for,

i am Her devoted slave that hopes to become one with the soles of Her feet and the floor.

i am proud to be Her doormat.