Sometimes hell comes to us in different forms. For me, hell was a living one. I woke up each day lower than the next, and my goal was to reach rock bottom. I was soaring, like a torpedo, since my divorce, toward my goal.
Then he came into my life, a savior? That's reserved for fairytales.
He wasn't a ghost of a man, who lived his life in fairy tales, but one who'd show me a way out of my despair. I never knew his world existed or that I belonged with him. I would learn the hard way, by experience. And I'd come to love him with every breath I took and every bond he clasped upon me. I'd submit my body and my soul and call him Sir, Master, and my Dom. For me, there would never be a greater passion.
Through the haze of my burning need to destroy who I was, love found me. Would I be able to accept it and return it? Could I put my trust in another's hands?
With a man I thought was disgusted with me, I found love, passion, and submission. He picked up the pieces of me, and with him, I found my true self.
****Adult Content****