My love brings a lantern to cast alight on your dark world, realizing the futility of it all! Because I know that those of you inhabiting it are blind!
How could any woman know she would be loved so passionately, so completely, by one such as he? Understand, he is more than my love, he is my everything, he is my life, and he made me 'woman'! It has been through him that I have understood the complete height, width, and depth, of my three dimensional being, and the awesome beauty of my body. They were wonderful gifts, 'My Body and Woman', - he knows us, us women!
You 'Righteous Ones', you who do not acknowledge him, or me, because you are not honest. You 'Righteous Ones', you arrogant hypocrites! You liars, you are the ones I talk to, listen! The unfortunate few who perceive far less are called insane! I say: It is not any different for those of us who perceive far more! No, as I think of it, I change my previous words, I do not talk 'to you', I talk 'past you'. To argue with you on Good and Evil would be futile, because you think there is neither, but when forced to chose, you always pick the wrong one! This is because you can not discern between symbolism and substance. You are torn between what you really think and what you think you should think. But you must try to be honest!
The handful who have ventured to look where few dare, and have perceived, you will acknowledge him and them, and you know me. You know that I speak of the dark underside of the sex called woman. And I am only a woman! I say 'only', because I am 'complete' now! Anything else added would make me less than I am. As empathetic human beings we are not equal to emn, we women, we are superior! But we are seldom honest.
I speak of a glowing, but well concealed, spark within our womb, for that is where a woman's soul resides. I speak of hidden, black desires, never talked about. I speak of being completely possessed!
A mystical part of us longs to be prepared for sacrifice and whipped, but the prospect of being damaged is abhorrent! But what if we could be whipped without damage? Why then, would we not ask to be stripped, naked and exposed, with our arms and legs stretched far apart, so we are 'Open' to all the emotions that can be inflicted upon us. To be taken under, until we sink deeper and deeper into the pleasures of our agony, and become nothing other than that which we are. In our writhing we will have no mind other than the absolute knowledge of our beauty and our suffering, and therefore will be the essence of woman.
You 'Righteous Ones', I am a woman. Even you with a small degree of honesty must admit that my entire being has been designed to endure and accept suffering. My natural mind associates pain with pleasure and suffering with sex. An ego needs suffering to rightly function, and my ego is tremendous. My body is built 'Open' to receive. I have the ability to stand, and to understand, pain as an intrinsic part of being a woman, and I know Suffering is an essential part of our true nature and constitution. I desire the subjection of myself for another's pleasures. I feel a desire and longing, to suffer in passion, and I wish to bear the unbearable for my love of it! I have the willingness to give freely of myself. The core of a woman is a mixture of Masochism, Sensuality, Passivity, Narcissism and Empathy! This is only a truth; not an answer to an unasked question.
Why then do I expect you 'Righteous Ones' to withdraw, and refuse to accept that which you know deep inside? Because you have no soul, you 'Righteous Ones', - because you have no soul! This is why you will claim bewilderment to my reply when 'he' came to me.
Taking my hand gently and speaking softly, he tells me he knows me. He knows 'that' which most of us keep within our soul, locked in a chest and pushed against a dark corner, never to be looke at. He asks that I not be afraid. Purification from sins, through my pain and beauty, and suffering is expected, but I must be willing! He is a colossal conflict within himself.
I look into his eyes and tremble, but I'm not afraid. Now you 'Righteous Ones', now you will blink your blind eyes and appear innocent!
As his love i said to him, as a woman I say to you, that I would gladly submit to pain and discomfort to be more beautiful is undeniable, even by you 'Righteous Ones'. Since the dawn of civilized existence, women have displayed their willingness to suffer for beauty, by the shoes they wear, the fashions they selectthe hours spent primping, the food they do not eat, and these are but a few examples endured for a 'fleeting glance' of admiration.
Why then as a woman, should I not gladly give myself to be taken into 'The Chamber', to be stripped naked and raise my arms and spread my feet voluntarily, offering my wrists and ankles for the straps which will be pulled to stretch me tightly between the columns? This is where my suffering, in itself, is the greater part of my victory. A fleeting glance of admiration becomes a scrutinizing ritual with fascination and longing from those who sit and worship me. They watch my flexing muscles as I writhe and sweat beneath the lashings of the whip. They watch with hunger in their eyes, while my limbs strain against the straps that stretch me. They listen to my moans and are consumed by the unequaled beauty I am forced to display. With my beauty, and my suffering, I will emerge the victor in the form of that which is worshipped, the epitome of all aesthetics, the essence of 'woman'!
You 'Righteous Ones', why would you not expect me to tell you that you can have my suffering? I will give it most gladly in exchange for your admiration, your worship, and the passion of your love. But will you take it? 'Can' you take it?
We sat on a rock that day. There was salt in the air and the smell of ocean kelp. The surging water swelled around us, angrily reaching up with wet, dripping fingers, trying to pull us downward so I could not fulfill my destiny. But I refused to be denied. I will become who i was prepared to be. I have been prepared exyremely well!
Treat me this way if you dare, and know that it is only when I am being 'Whipped' or 'Tortured' for exploitation of my beauty and your love of it, or when when we make love for your love of me, that I am truly happy. Possess me completely! Whip me as long and as intensly as you can, but then compliment ot with all the tenderness you have. Give me all I can endure; - then even more!
Strap me stretched between your columns and play me as a beautiful instrument should be played. Tauten one string, then another, and another. Then still another. Play me again, then 'tune me' once again. Tune my body until each taut chord and tendon, and each straining muscle, have given their maximum! Test my breasts and nipples; the most sensitive things in nature. The vessels and veins under the breasts thin dmooth dkin converge at theirnipples, forming tips which protrude defiantly vulnerable and tender! They would provide exquisite instruments for my torture, would they not? Gentle pain upon them without mercy, can be prolonged forever!
Play me! Force and create so unds of unbearable intensity, and tone, as they build to a crescendo. Snap all the strings that bind my soul and my suffering will touch you, making your soul mine. My quivering, stretched muscles and my glistening body, drenched with the sweat of my suffering, will be deniable proof that I am yours completely, for whatever you desire! I want their torture, for it is always applied with the love and care of connoisseurs! Orgasms of mind, body, and soul are meticulously prolonged, until they merge into one measure of extremely unbearable intensity flooding my total existence. Mirrors around the columns reflect the image of my glossy, spread-eagle nakedness. There is no rest from my awareness, as to my complete exposure and absolute vulnberabiluty, not only of my body, but also of my very soul. You are my link to salvation, and my willingness to suffer for you and the others, cleanses me thoroughly.
But do not accept this responsibility lightly! I will become apathetic if you assume the profound position of a master, but are not strong enough. Lock the straps with inserted rings around my wrists and ankles, so I may be spread to give the passion of my naked body being whipped whenever you desire, I give it gladly; for I know I will not be damaged!
You others, you 'Righteous Ones', do you have the honesty within your composition to understand the existence of your dark desires! You need me for your contrived and false tears of pretended empathy, and the arrogance of your contemptible pseudo-intellectualism. Do you not admit my moans while making love would stir you? While making love, would you not think my writhing body, and straining throat in passion, to be beautiful? While making love, the female stretches her arms above her head grasping for something to hold her fasdt, while pretending to be bound. Would it not be better, to watch this pretense, from your throne?
For thousands of years, a woman's apparel has centered around shoes with straps to clasp around our ankles, or sandals with leather strings to tightly wrap around them; and blouses with an array of open slits across the back, revealing our skin and giving us the look of having just been recently whipped. Our favorite dresses are backless, with the shoulders torn open, and the loose material drooping low on our arms, providing us with a ripped and ravished appearance. Do you think there is no association with all that I have written about? The female pierces the flesh or her ears, from which to dangle around jewelry. She fastens chokers around her neck, and bracelets around her wrists and ankles to give the unconfused impression that she is in bondage, waiting to be subjected to the whip at any moment!
Somewhere deep inside each woman's soul there are quiet thoughts that terrify her. But no matter how she tries to control them, the persistent thoughts will continue to haunt her, trying to make her admit that a part of her has been longing to take my place!
By keeping me between the outermost extension of ecstasy through suffering, my soul will remain exposed for close inspection by all who watch! Keep me moaning with pleasure of my pain, so a mystical fusion will join them i n complete consent. Let the whips leave light streaks all over my body, so if asked about them I may day: "Because while I received them I was worshipped, and while I received them I felt more beautiful than any other time in my life!
If you admit you would like to possess me, you 'Righteous Ones', then I would say to you: "You already do, if you will, for I am a woman!"
You 'Righteous Ones', as long as he exists, who is the slave, you or I? What need have I for furs, jewels, money, deceit, lies, hypocrisy, or anything? Only that which one can give freely and completely is theirs! If I give 'everything' of myself and hold back 'nothing', if I can 'submit to anything', then I can truly say: "MySoul Is My Own!'
Read no further, this is all for you to perceive. Destroy this diary if you find it in your possession. The rest is far too personal and was written only for myself;......A Woman! With Love For Rue, - and Them! .......... Amber!
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