A
Anonymous (2490)
Guest
There is a particular kind of ache in letting go of a slave you once held so close. One that lingers long after the collar has been removed and the rituals fade into memory. It is not just the loss of power exchanged... it is the silence where her voice used to tremble with need... the stillness where your control once anchored you both.
This isn't like losing a lover... it is deeper... more intimate. She trusted you... not just with her body... but with the corners of her soul she didn't show anyone else. And you held that trust like sacred fire... careful not to burn her... careful to keep her warm.
But something changed. Maybe it was a slow quiet drift... maybe it was sudden and sharp. Whatever it was, the connection frayed, and the weight of your responsibility started to press in the wrong places. You told yourself you could fix it... that she still needed you... that you still deserved her surrender.
But control isn't ownership... and love sometimes means knowing when to let go... so you do.
You unclasp the collar with steady hands and a breaking heart. You offer her freedom... even if it tears through you like glass. You tell her she is strong... that she will be okay... then you walk away before your resolve crumbles in front of her.
Now there is only silence... the rituals are gone... the weight of her gaze... the softness of her obedience... are now just a memory.
And yet... you still feel her... because a part of you was shaped by her trust and by the nights she gave herself to you completely. That part won’t vanish... you carry it like a scar... a reminder that even Doms can bleed quietly for the ones they once called 'mine'.
This isn't like losing a lover... it is deeper... more intimate. She trusted you... not just with her body... but with the corners of her soul she didn't show anyone else. And you held that trust like sacred fire... careful not to burn her... careful to keep her warm.
But something changed. Maybe it was a slow quiet drift... maybe it was sudden and sharp. Whatever it was, the connection frayed, and the weight of your responsibility started to press in the wrong places. You told yourself you could fix it... that she still needed you... that you still deserved her surrender.
But control isn't ownership... and love sometimes means knowing when to let go... so you do.
You unclasp the collar with steady hands and a breaking heart. You offer her freedom... even if it tears through you like glass. You tell her she is strong... that she will be okay... then you walk away before your resolve crumbles in front of her.
Now there is only silence... the rituals are gone... the weight of her gaze... the softness of her obedience... are now just a memory.
And yet... you still feel her... because a part of you was shaped by her trust and by the nights she gave herself to you completely. That part won’t vanish... you carry it like a scar... a reminder that even Doms can bleed quietly for the ones they once called 'mine'.
