Eyes

sometimes when W/we are playing the things that i see in the eyes of my Mistress scare the living shit out of me. for Her eyes are a mirror of that which seeks to be fed; to be satiated and satisfied. cold, dark, forboding. lifeless in a sense .... sometimes the pupils of Her eyes resemble huge, polished, darkened marbles, floating on a sea of maleficent green intensity. they seem to widen and enlarge at just the sight of a prick, or a mere trickle of blood.

She is a predator of the moment, which consumes and dines greedily on my afflictions and suffering. but, where is the edge? is it possible to cross over it? to go too far? all i know is that when my Mistress hurts me, i feel accepted with affection in Her eyes. i peer into Her eyes and see my reflection cowed and beaten down. sometimes squashed, sometimes squished and utterly flattened in Her presence. but, always accepted for the silly, incomprehensible, dork that i am. ... thank you, my Mistress.