Maybe I should have gone into politics. If you were a political activist, election season brought moments of intensity, whichever side you were on, and meanwhile here I was inarguably withering away,

Sometimes it is harder to accede to a thing than it is to see its truth.

Then Hwin, though shaking all over, gave a strange little neigh and trotted across to the Lion. "Please," she said, "you're so beautiful. You may eat me if you like. I'd sooner be eaten by you than fed by anyone else.

Keep me rather in this cage, and feed me sparingly, if you dare. Anything that brings me closer to illness and the edge of death makes me more faithful. It is only when you make me suffer that I feel safe and secure. You should never have agreed to be a god for me if you were afraid to assume the duties of a god, and we know that they are not as tender as all that. You have already seen me cry. Now you must learn to relish my tears.

He moves suddenly so that his hand is cupping my sex, and one of his fingers sinks slowly into me. His other arm holds me firmly in place around my waist. “This is mine,” he whispers aggressively. “All mine. Do you understand?” He eases his finger in and out as he gazes down at me, gauging my reaction, his eyes burning.“Yes, yours…”Abruptly, he moves, doing several things at once: Withdrawing his fingers, leaving me wanting, unzipping his fly, and pushing me down onto the couch so he’s lying on top of me.“Hands on your head,” he commands through gritted teeth as he kneels up, forcing my legs wider…“We don’t have long. This will be quick, and it’s for me, not you. Do you understand?Don’t come, or I will spank you,” he says through clenched teeth.

Love is giving up control. It’s surrendering the desire to control the other person. The two—love and controlling power over the other person—are mutually exclusive. If we are serious about loving someone, we have to surrender all the desires within us to manipulate the relationship.

Besides, the story is ambivalent and mysterious in its ending. Is this Alkestis returning from down below? Why does she have a veil over her face? Could it be that when we forcefully bring back to life what has been lost through love what we get is only a shate of its former reality? Maybe we can never succeed fully in restoring the soul to life. Maybe she will always be veiled and at least partially shielded from the rigors of actual life. Love demands a submission that is total.

Obedience and submission requires faith

If we could be humble enough to submit our passions, sentiments and even weaknesses to God Almighty, he would successfully convert them to something positive that would eventually glorify Him.

We sometimes fail to realise that when we pray to Allah we are in fact performing a great act of ibadah (worship). On the surface it might seem as if we are asking out of self-interest, but we are really proving the sincerity of our belief in the tauhid (Oneness) of Allah and our submission to the True God. Thus the Prophet pbuh said: "Supplication is itself the worship." (Reported by Abu Daud and al-Tirmizi, sahih.) If a servant prays the whole night to Allah, he therefore performs a great ibadah all night long.

I'm a queen with or without a king. Chasing anything is beneath me. Until you're ready to put away childish things and be my man, my king, someone I can trust to shepard my soul to the Almighty I have to decline being your wife. I love you with all my heart and soul, but my salvation, life, health, and legacy has to come first now.

Submission is a tyrannical discipline.

To submit one’s self to one’s gift is to submit oneself to education and self-development and to devote enough time to improve one’s gift

You touch some of the reasons for my going, not for my staying away.

I do not think, sir, you have any right to command me, merely because you are older than I, or because you have seen more of the world than I have; your claim to superiority depends on the use you have made of your time and experience.

I love man as my fellow; but his scepter, real, or usurped, extends not to me, unless the reason of an individual demands my homage; and even then the submission is to reason, and not to man.

There are some who want to get married and others who don't. I have never had an impulse to go to the altar. I am a difficult person to lead.

At its root, the logic is that of the Grand Inquisitor, who bitterly assailed Christ for offering people freedom and thus condemning them to misery. The Church must correct the evil work of Christ by offering the miserable mass of humanity the gift they most desire and need: absolute submission. It must “vanquish freedom” so as “to make men happy” and provide the total “community of worship” that they avidly seek. In the modern secular age, this means worship of the state religion, which in the Western democracies incorporates the doctrine of submission to the masters of the system of public subsidy, private profit, called free enterprise. The people must be kept in ignorance, reduced to jingoist incantations, for their own good. And like the Grand Inquisitor, who employs the forces of miracle, mystery, and authority “to conquer and hold captive for ever the conscience of these impotent rebels for their happiness” and to deny them the freedom of choice they so fear and despise, so the “cool observers” must create the “necessary illusions” and “emotionally potent oversimplifications” that keep the ignorant and stupid masses disciplined and content.

Do you remember what we just did? Please tell me you remember what we just did."She briefly toyed with the idea of lying and saying no, just to see the look on his face, but she'd had enough of having her brain played with – it wouldn't be too sporting to do the same to him. "Yes, I remember, and don't you think for one minute that just because you had me on my back screaming I was 'yours'," she waved four fingers in quotation marks in front of his face, "that it gives you any kind of ownership over me, because it doesn't."He looked annoyed, then relieved, then he laughed. "Yeah, whatever, baby.

Resentment is often a woman's inner signal that she has been ignoring an important God-given responsibility - that of making choices.

Immodest creature, you do not want a woman who will accept your faults, you want the one who pretends you are faultless – one who will caress the hand that strikes her and kiss the lips that lie to

What was the point in satin and lace if it didn't make a man struggle to speak?

In a patriarchal society, one of the most important functions of the institution of the family is to make feel like a somebody whenever he is in his own yard a man who is a nobody whenever he is in his employer’s yard.

It is hard for us to recognize it now, but Peter and Paul were introducing the first Christian family to an entirely new community, a community that transcends the rigid hierarchy of human institutions, a community in which submission is mutual and all are free.

The noble calling to rule and subdue the earth in God’s name was perverted, as male and female tried to rule and subdue each other.

Christianity and Socialism Compared"Socialism is the antithesis of Christianity. Socialism is filled with elitists and Christianity is the faith of servants.Socialism is filled with submission to man. Christianity is submission to the God/man - Jesus Christ.The socialist lives under strong delusion. Christians are taught by the Holy Spirit who deals only in truth.Socialism will die with time and it's fall will be a blip on the radar of eternity. Those who die advocating socialism will suffer the wrath of a holy God forever. Christianity will stand forever and its adherents will live on in the presence of the absolute ruler of the universe in joy and peace forever."C R Lord © 2017

The present representative of the Dedlocks is an excellent master. He supposes all his dependents to be utterly bereft of individual characters, intentions, or opinions, and is persuaded that he was born to supersede the necessity of their having any. If he were to make a discovery to the contrary, he would be simply stunned — would never recover himself, most likely, except to gasp and die.

He left to do whatever editors do.

A woman dictates before marriage in order that she may have an appetite for submission afterwards.

Marriage is the harmony of God synchronizing two wills with the will of the Father.

If you submit to your gift, people will seek and invite you, you will get well paid because you have perfected your gift

His heart is the rhythm, mine is the echo.

She made the beast rear its ugly head. Stirred fantasies in my mind I would have never otherwise entertained. Owning her wasn’t enough. Controlling her didn’t douse the inferno blazing inside me.

As he once wrote of Kipling, his own enduring influence can be measured by a number of terms and phrases—doublethink, thought police, 'Some animals are more equal than others'—that he embedded in our language and in our minds. In Orwell's own mind there was an inextricable connection between language and truth, a conviction that by using plain and unambiguous words one could forbid oneself the comfort of certain falsehoods and delusions. Every time you hear a piece of psychobabble or propaganda—'people's princess,' say, or 'collateral damage,' or 'peace initiative'—it is good to have a well-thumbed collection of his essays nearby. His main enemy in discourse was euphemism, just as his main enemy in practice was the abuse of power, and (more important) the slavish willingness of people to submit to it.

Possession is not only when the devil plays hide and seek in your brain or poison your medula oblongata with negativity, but it is also when you are under the influence of the same specie as you!

Man can attempt to become one with the world by submission to a person, to a group, to an institution, to God. In this way, he transcends the separateness of his individual existence by becoming part of somebody or something bigger than himself, and experiences his identity in connection with the power to which he has submitted.

By all means be submissive in the bedroom (if you are that way inclined), but don't be submissive to life. Being life's bitch is no fun at all. Life may play up in many ways, but it's up to you to take control, take charge and put life in its place.

For the young, there is nothing unattainable; a good thing desired with the whole force of a passionate will, and yet impossible, is to them not credible. Yet, by death, by illness, by poverty, or by the voice of duty, we must learn, each one of us, that the world was not made for us, and that, however beautiful may be the things we crave, Fate may nevertheless forbid them. It is the part of courage, when misfortune comes, to bear without regretting the ruin of our hopes, to turn away our thoughts from vain regrets. This degree of submission to power is not only just and right: it is the very gate of wisdom.

Relinquishing control to another person is like death: it’s only scary until it finally happens.

Some people believe that it isn’t so much power that is exchanged in TPE, as it is authority. The intrinsic difference between power and authority can best be explained thusly: If we were talking about a car, then power would be what was under the hood. Exercising that power would mean taking the car out for a spin. Having the authority to do so might involve a driver’s license, possessing the keys, or having the title and registration.

I thought to myself how we were so wrapped up in this animal act, that he couldn’t care less about his tea shop business, and I couldn’t care less about my job. That’s real sex that is, real passion: where you abandon all your boringly sensible thoughts, and all that tediously responsible side of yourself, as you give yourself to what you know really matters more, deep in the core of you: frantic sex.

Fear, anxiety, arousal, and pain; all are emotions and sensations. They are neither right, nor are they wrong; good nor bad. They are simply passions, a most important part of life. Feel them, fully experience them, surrender to them, and learn to accept them. As a submissive, you must let go. André Chevalier

These girls with old gents don't do it despite the age—they're drawn to the age, they do it for the age. Why? In Consuela's case, because the vast difference in age gives her permission to submit, I think. My age and mystatus give her, rationally, the license to surrender, and surrendering in bed is a not unpleasant sensation. But simultaneously, to give yourself over intimately to a much, much older man provides this sort of younger woman with authority of a kind she cannot get in a sexual arrangement with a younger man. She gets both the pleasures of submission and the pleasures of mastery.

Men love a submissive woman, Damon said simply. Even when they say the don't. There's just something about a beautiful, soft woman looking to them to protect and take care of them that inspires a man to greatness.

I’m not going to deny that I want to fuck you. I can’t promise a future or that I’ll be some sniveling boyfriend who pines away after you once I go back to L.A. But I will say that I have plans for you if you say yes.“I can promise you that I’m going to take you to new heights that you’ve never imagined. That I’ll make you feel pleasure so intense that you forget your name. I’ll fuck you so good, for so long that the only thing you’ll crave is my hands on your skin, my cock deep in your pussy.“If you let me, Tori, I’ll open up a whole new world to you. I’ll make you fly.

By all means be submissive in the bedroom (if you are that way inclined), but don't be submissive to life. Being life's bitch is no fun at all. Life may play up in many ways, but it's up to you to take control, take charge and show life who's really calling the shots.

My sub doesn't pay for me,” he says, pulling me to my feet. “That just doesn't happen.”“But we ordered so much,” I say helpl

There’s something sexy about a naked woman gritting her teeth in pain, even when it shouldn’t be sexy.

Adrian had always found it amusing that a guy could be drilling Stacia up her ass while she considered herself to be a virgin. Her intent had been to present herself as such when she found "Mr. Right.

A Dom never takes away. He only builds.

Miss McClure...” he had been talking while her mind drifted off. She brought her gaze back to his face, trying to focus on the flinty stare and thin line of his lips. “Sorry, I was distracted. And can’t you call me Bryn?”“I’ll try, but generally I prefer a more formal approach in business dealings. It keeps the relationship clear.”“Like, you in charge, the other person in submission?” The words popped out before she edited herself. Her eyes grew large as she watched his face go through a change of expression. A slight smile hovered at the corner of his mouth.“Yes, something like that. Might I get a refill?” He held up his empty glass.

There is a pernicious notion held by many that being a submissive means being a victim or a doormat. The so-called Fifty Shades phenomenon gives this repulsive lie some very long legs, spreading it far and wide and giving it unwarranted credibility. This fallacy must be exposed for what it is. It is a despicable lie that mischaracterizes and tarnishes millions of good people living a healthy and enjoyable lifestyle. At the same time, it undermines the feminist cause, promotes rape culture, and ultimately revictimizes true victims of the very real problems of sexual abuse and violence in this country.

Make no mistake about it, a perfect storm is forming, and it's coming our way. Its sudden onset and fierce intensity will surprise even its most vocal proponents and cheerleaders. Many people who are now in the fetish lifestyle will vainly leap into the fray, foolishly thinking that this will be an orderly battle of opposing ideas that can be fought civilly and rationally. They will quickly learn that they are tragically wrong in this assumption, and many of them will pay a terrible price emotionally, socially, and financially as a result.

The Warrior Princess Submissive is - at least in my humble opinion - quite possibly destined to be the hope and salvation of the D/s lifestyle from an ever-increasing wave of attacks by a small cadre of radical feminists and misandrists who seek to equate D/s with misogyny.

Sometimes to submit is to know you have a life worth living for a higher purpose, worth seeing through.

As a rule,I believe people shouldn't follow rules;rules should follow people.

Prayer is actually setting out a tuning fork. All you can really do in the spiritual life is to get tuned to receive the always present message. Once you are tuned, you will receive, and it as nothing do to with worthiness or the group you belong to but only the inner resonance and a capacity for mutuality. The Sender is absolutely and always present and broadcasting; the only change is with the receiver station.

For the vile human pigs in life; the sloppy, disheveled, uncaring dregs, the ungrateful, and especially for the vicious, negative emotional peasants — there will only continue to be the hard and painful lessons you so desperately need. The invisible hand will hold you in your wretched place until your last breath — unless you evolve. If you are cruel and ignorant the invisible fist will pound you into oblivion until you submit, humble yourself and soften your hard heart.

The 'Dance of Love' is much more of a dialogue, one takes the lead and the other follows. One dictates a step and the other carries it out. One determines the direction, the other determines the distance travelled in a given figure. One sets the pace, the other reveals the grace. One understands the language of the other and knows what is coming next. The one leading leads with love and respect; never seeing the follower as being weak or inferior. And in the same manner, the one following follows with Trust and Submission; never feeling too big to be led or scared to jump. There is a blind assurance that someone is there to catch.

I don’t want your apology. I want your obedience.

Condition a woman (or a man) to value submission above all other attitudes and you will produce a character type whose most readily expressed emotion will be sadness.

Men often think submission indicates weakness, that letting someone else take charge betrays a character deficit. But we all submit to strangers who drill into our teeth as long as we can see the parchment on their wall which reads “Dentist.

Submissive men, men who desire to serve as consensual slaves, are on one of the most difficult journeys in the world today, because they have rejected patriarchal privilege and embraced their own heart's calling instead.

From imperial, economic and ideological causes, many cultures are the inheritors, and hence the prisoners, of attitudes of scorn and disdain for other faiths – outlooks which are not ennobling to anyone.

True devotion and humility is when you carelessly allow yourself to fall in love with things you consider will make you look inferior, which in essence, makes you superior.

Submission is not in the bowing of heads or knees but in the humbling of your whole being (spirit, soul and body)

If you submit to your gift, you will become known and influential

A purpose derived from a false premise – that a deity has ordained submission to his will – cannot merit respect. The pursuit of Enlightenment-era goals — solving our world’s problems through rational discourse, rather than through religion and tradition – provides ample grounds for a purposive existence. It is not for nothing that the Enlightenment, when atheism truly began to take hold, was also known as the Age of Reason.

There is, in fact, no safeword for chemical burns under one’s fingernails.

If you really want to talk to the big boss now, make sure you leave your balls here with me, for he likes no balls on people he is talking to.

In reality of everyday occurrences I've had to submit to people in order not to lose them. It's less the submission that bothers me, I guess, than how it makes my life miserable. And what happens if I can't forgive myself for making that choice? And what if, in order to keep on living, I have to continue to accept myself? What am I supposed to do? Conclusion: It'd be best if I'm destroyed. The best thing is for me just to vanish.

A writer who can't follow submission guidelines is like a pilot without a plane... ain't gonna get very far!

Our knees get dusty from time to time, but when they touch the ground, we must never allow the dust to convince us that our submission in that moment is the acceptance of our defeat for an entire lifetime.

Even their insistence on educating their children, the last reflex of any exploited group before it sank into submission, marked the end of their resistance.

If you think you can stand to know what you’re made of, try kneeling before God.

I realized that the legal system was corrupt when I went to court and the judge imposed a very short time limit on my evidence submission before removing my legal rights to free speech.

It is a human characteristic, which has been richly exploited in every era, that while hope of survival is still alive in a man, while he still believes his troubles will have a favorable outcome, and while he still has the chance to unmask treason or to save someone else by sacrificing himself, he continues to cling to the pitiful remnants of comfort and remains silent and submissive. When he has been taken and destroyed, when he has nothing more to lose, and is, in consequence, ready and eager for heroic action, his belated rage can only spend itself against the stone walls of solitary confinement. Or the breath of the death sentence makes him indifferent to earthly affairs.

The being who patiently endures injustice, and silently bears insults, will soon become unjust, or unable to discern right from wrong.

Why do you think there aren’t rules to how sex will work? You didn’t want to talk to me about what you wanted. You pushed me into the room so I wouldn’t turn on the light because you knew damn well I would push back on that, didn’t you?”She stayed where she was. “Yes. I don’t want you to see me. I don’t look like one of those girls in a magazine.”He groaned, the sound coming from deep in his chest. “Those girls in the magazines are airbrushed and way too thin. The camera adds pounds so those girls are so skinny I wouldn’t be able to fuck them for fear I would break them. I want a woman, Avery, not some tiny freaking thing whose waistline only proves she doesn’t eat. I want a woman who can take me. I want a woman I can hold on to. So bend over because I want to see your ass. I want to look at it because I’ve been dreaming about it for days. It’s hot and round and so fucking juicy I can’t stand it. Get me hot, Avery. Show me your ass.

I do not desire power, but rather to submit to the will of Elamm’.

Often it takes outer authority to send us on the path to our own inner authority.

Feeling grateful to breathe a new day. Gratitude is a way to submit to the flow of life.

We are enjoined whenever we behold the gifts of God in others so to reverence and respect the gifts as also to honor those in whom they reside.

Nothing disciplines the inordinate desires of the flesh like service, and nothing transforms the desires of the flesh like serving in hiddenness. The flesh whines against service but screams against hidden service. It strains and pulls for honour and recognition. It will devise subtle, religiously acceptable means to call attention to the service rendered. If we stoutly refuse to give in to this lust of the flesh, we crucify it. Every time we crucify the flesh, we crucify our pride and arrogance.

If you'd called me an ox, I'd have said I was an ox; if you'd called me a horse, I'd have said I was a horse. If the reality is there and you refuse to accept the name men give it, you'll only lay yourself open to double harassment.

The world you once knew is no more for you.

Now how does all this relate to Islamic jihad? Islam sees violence as a means of propagating the Muslim faith. Islam divides the world into two camps: the dar al-Islam (House of Submission) and the dar al-harb (House of War). The former are those lands which have been brought into submission to Islam; the latter are those nations which have not yet been brought into submission. This is how Islam actually views the world!By contrast, the conquest of Canaan represented God’s just judgement upon those peoples. The purpose was not at all to get them to convert to Judaism! War was not being used as an instrument of propagating the Jewish faith. Moreover, the slaughter of the Canaanites represented an unusual historical circumstance, not a regular means of behavior.The problem with Islam, then, is not that it has got the wrong moral theory; it’s that it has got the wrong God. If the Muslim thinks that our moral duties are constituted by God’s commands, then I agree with him. But Muslims and Christians differ radically over God’s nature. Muslims believe that God loves only Muslims. Allah has no love for unbelievers and sinners. Therefore, they can be killed indiscriminately. Moreover, in Islam God’s omnipotence trumps everything, even His own nature. He is therefore utterly arbitrary in His dealing with mankind.

The hardest and greatest thing a human being can do is submit to his Creator.

God is Love but He also is the Lawgiver

You are blood of my blood and you will answer to me when I command.

He who in given cases consents to obey his fellows with servility, and who submits his will, and even his thoughts, to their control, how can he pretend that he wishes to be free?

The becoming attitude for us to take is that of godly fear, implicit obedience, and unreserved resignation and submission. But not only so: the recognition of the sovereignty of God, and the realization that the Sovereign Himself is my Father, ought to overwhelm the heart and cause me to bow before Him in adoring worship. At all times I must say “Even so, Father, for so it seemeth good in Thy sight.

The kids (in the Jesus Movement) weren't singing for themselves. It seemed like they were singing TO Someone.

Clinton had displayed his lifelong tendency to make enemies of all his superiors, who never seemed to appreciate his advice as much as he thought it deserved.

Time seemed to stop; the world around them stilled. There was only her. His thumb caressed at her lips, the lips he wanted to kiss.Katianna rolled her face in his palm—a caressing nuzzle and he stilled, his breath froze in his chest.A response. A submissive one at that. His heart, stilled fractured by that single nuance, but his loins burst with a wave of warmth.A response—it had been a response. Oh fuck he had to kiss her. His whole body was screaming for her now.

I'm silenced by his right hand cupping my chin and ear, his left hand flattening against my ribs as he gently pushes me back against the wall. I can feel the brick pressing into my naked upper back, cold and rough. His kiss is slow, tender...firm. His lips are warm, tongue smooth and flat, filling my mouth...I can't even feel my own tongue...taking my breath away with his.

With its continued dismissal of the law of God in ethics, Fundamentalism expressed both a "spiritualized" form of situational ethics and a "Christianly submissive" statism.

You’re my master. And I am only here to serve you. That’s what I understand. And to be honest, I don’t think there’s anything else to know.

He was the journey she wanted to take. The landscape she wanted to walk. There wasn’t a part of him she didn’t want to roam.

God in His sovereign goodness often uses the painful and at times debilitating injury of a spear thrower to make us readier for His service. ... One thing you discover about spear throwers is that though it’s not necessary for them to be good, it’s essential for them to appear good.

Obedience appears to me more and more the whole business of life, the only road to love and peace.

C.S. Lewis had come to demand of his nightly prayers a "realization," "a certain vividness of the imagination and the affectations" – a sure recipe for sleeplessness and misery.

Focusing on effective leadership without focusing on a willingness to follow is like studying clapping by studying only the left hand.

When I am not king, then THE Kingdom has its best chance of breaking through.

We have to grow into Scripture, like a young boy inheriting his older brother's clothes and flopping around in them, but he gradually builds out and grows up. Perhaps it's a measure of our maturity when parts of Scripture that we found odd or even repellent suddenly come up in a new light. Our sense is overtaken by a sense of the whole thing, wide, multicolored, and unspeakably powerful.

Kings can only use their best tools.

all believers should “submit to each other out of reverence for Christ.” In many ways, wives should submit to their husbands in the same way any believer should submit to other believers, specifically by living according to the lifestyle the apostle Paul lays out earlier in the chapter. This mutual submission is an accountability to be held to God’s standards, an accountability in which both husband and wife are called to participate.

Was it cruel if someone asked for it? Begged for it, even? She always begged. Even now, I could hear her whimpering for me. Christ, those noises she made. A one-way ticket to heaven.

The last five years had been a series of carefully orchestrated events. Every move, every strategy had been poured over in painstaking detail before it was set into motion. Pieces on a chess board. A collision of fate and circumstance. I’d planned for every hitch. Every contingency. Except the one that blindsided me like a vat of acid to the face. I fell in love with her.

Sensuality is beautiful, and dominance and submission in the right context is a passionate art. A muse which ignites the flame of femininity, enrapturing both partners in complete euphoria, magnifying both the masculine and the feminine in one tantalizing unit.

At the end of the day, when the sun falls a willing prisoner of the night...and humans, males and females alike, become submitted to the mistress of the dark, my mind begins to wander and wonder. Looking upwards at a blank slate of concrete, the psyque expresses freely what my subconscious is afraid to give free rein. And there and then, between the play of reality and dreamland, I find my place. I find myself.

He was desire, and I was his prisoner, chained up by his kisses. Submissive to his touch.

Who am I to deny my Master pleasure, simply because it is not at the hands of myself? He is free to do as he will, because of the life that he has given me. I am thankful for him, for the fact that out of all of us, I am the one that he chooses to keep and care for as his own.

Jonathan Drazen," I said, squeezing his hand. "You're a manipulative bastard, a brazen liar, and a sadist. You've brought me to my knees. You've dominated me. You've told me who I am and then challenged me to be it. If you made me strong enough to stand up to the world, let me stand by you. If you completed the woman I am, let me be that woman in your honor. Every part of my body is dedicated to you. Every note I sing. Every breath in my lungs. My pleasure and pain. Take me. Let me serve you. Let me be yours.

...Tomorrow I'm going to destroy you. I'm going to mark your body and ruin your mind. By noon, you won't know whether to laugh or cry. But tonight? Tonight I will revere you. I will build an altar of myself. I will frame you in stars.

I had to have her, and I did. She got on her knees when I told her to. She slipped easily into play and out again, becoming her witty, intelligent self seamlessly. She wasn't intimidated by me. She teased and challenged me. She kissed like she meant it, and from the very first night, she enjoyed fucking without reservation or shame. Monica was, in a word, perfect.

Oh, fucking fuckery,

Being under him, trapped, objectified, I lost all fear. With Jonathan, I felt safe. I felt a loss of control so complete, a surrender so honest that it became a luxurious indulgence.

He moves suddenly so that his hand is cupping my sex, and one of his fingers sinks slowly into me. His other arm holds me firmly in place around my waist. I suppress my moan. "This is mine," he whispers aggressively. "All mine. Do you understand?" He eases his finger in and out as he gazes down at me, gauging my reaction, his eyes burning. "Yes, yours,

Give me a number between one and ten.”“Two.”“Forget that, then. Between five and ten.”“Seven.”“That’s how many times you’re coming before sunrise...

God, she was one big nerve ending, that girl, and those big brown eyes got just a little wider when she was close. And those bruises. And how she begged for them.I knew she was special the night I met her, I just didn't know how special.

You only get what you give away.

God, he was an evil bastard, but boy was he good!

I’m sure you can manage from here”, and without a further word, he walked out of her room, then let himself out of her flat.

I was Mrs. Taylor yesterday.” I grin at Taylor, who flushes.“That has a nice ring to it, Miss Steele,” Taylor says matter-of-factly.“I thought so, too.”Christian tightens his hold on my hand, scowling. “If you two have quite finished, I’d like a debrief.” He glares at Taylor, who now looks uncomfortable, and I cringe inwardly. I have overstepped the mark.“Sorry,” I mouth at Taylor, who shrugs and smiles kindly before I turn to follow Christian.“I’ll be with you shortly. I just want a word with Miss Steele,” Christian says to Taylor, and I know I’m in trouble.Christian leads me into his bedroom and closes the door.“Don’t flirt with the staff, Anastasia,” he scolds.I open my mouth to defend myself—then close it again, then open it. “I wasn’t flirting. I was being friendly—there is a difference.”“Don’t be friendly with the staff or flirt with them. I don’t like it.”Oh. Good-bye, carefree Christian. “I’m sorry,” I mutter and stare down at my fingers. He hasn’t made me feel like a child all day. Reaching down he cups my chin, pulling my head up to meet his eyes.“You know how jealous I am,” he whispers.“You have no reason to be jealous, Christian. You own me body and soul.

One cowboy is never enough.

It wasn’t desire, it was biology. My body was adapting to the situation. Doing what it needed to survive. That, I was certain of. Because if I had liked it, liked the hands of this monster, that would have made me a monster too.

She was the only antidote for the bleakness that lived inside of me. My goddess. My deity. I wasn’t a believer in any religion, but I’d make an exception in this case. I’d get down on my knees and worship at her alter every day if it brought her back to me.

Even when she was on her knees- filled with my darkness- she was still shining bright. My Siren’s song, my exposed nerve. She lured me in and made me feel. And then she left me to perish.

I needed to channel the darkness that ran through my veins and embrace it. To play this game better than this man ever could have predicted. After all, I’d only been with him twice, and already I could see his weakness. His weakness was me.

I didn’t know what to say. What to do. I didn’t feel strong anymore. I felt like I couldn’t go on without him. He loved me fiercely. Obsessively. Rivalled only by the intensity which I felt for him. So why couldn’t we be together?

It was Brighton. She made me fucking insane. Her beauty and absolute perfection dissolved any moral boundaries that may have existed within me.

Don’t deny me what’s mine, Brighton.

I’m not letting you go, baby girl. You need to accept that.

Know what’s worse than cold turkey? Just a little bump. One tiny sip to take the edge off. The edges never went away, they only got sharper. Every addict would tell you. Gray areas couldn’t exist in a sober environment.

I’d single-handedly go to war and burn their whole organization to the ground before I ever let them harm what was mine. And there were no two ways about it- Brighton would always be mine.

This is how you will remember that you are mine. Every painful touch, everyaching hug, will remind you - that you are a slave - to me.

Augustus was sensible that mankind is governed by names; nor was he deceived in his expectation, that the senate and the people would submit to slavery, provided they were respectfully assured that they still enjoyed their ancient freedoms.

If deep in our hearts we suspect that God does not love us and cannot manage our affairs as well as we can, we certainly will not submit to His discipline.

The level of our submission to God will determine our success and prosperity.

I no longer fear the pain...I fear no release from this torture...knowing that I've hurt him and he can't forgive me...that he won't be able to make me his good girl again.

I wanted to let my conscience go, and see how deep I fall.I wanted to let the devil take over, and see if I survive.I love you, Mriga. And for you, I will die.Tonight.

Bottoming doesn't make you a submissive any more than standing in my kitchen makes you a cook. By the way, while you’re there, please make me a sandwich.

I find few more satisfying exhibitions of power and control than deliberately creating desire - only to capriciously deny it...

It's hard for an educated woman to turn her head off. That's part of the joy of being a submissive. None of the decisions are yours. When you can't refuse anything and can't even move, those voices in your head go silent. All you can do, and all you are permitted to do, is feel.

So you’ll get your kicks by exerting your will over me.”“It’s about gaining your trust and your respect, so you’ll let me exert my will over you. I will gain a great deal of pleasure, joy, even in your submission. The more you submit, the greater my joy – it’s a very simple equation.”“Okay, and what do I get out of this?”He shrugs and looks almost apologetic.“Me,” he says simply.

He had always thought the Holy Grail would be finding a girl who submitted gladly and whole- heartedly to his leadership. Now he saw how much more powerful it was when the surrender was a bit reluctant, when she had to overcome her own strong will before yielding to his. He didn’t want an off-the-shelf submissive after all. He wanted a girl with a mind of her own, whose heart and will had to be tamed, who would submit to him and him alone.

Acting so obviously submissive to Max around strangers, I felt a lot of humiliation. The looks from people, the comments. But I also felt this strange sense of pride. I am his possession, his property. And I'm proud of that. I'm proud of how happy I make him.

This time his voice comes from the left and I hear his footfall moving around my body as I obey. Suddenly I am all limbs, stretching out to please him. I am absurdly vulnerable and beyond aroused. I want him now.

The craft of a master is not imposing dominance, but winning submission.

My new and improved Golden Rule: Dom unto others as you would have God Dom unto you.

How many spanks have you had, Julia?” Damien asked.“Two, Sir.”“What colour are you on?”“Mortification,” she mumbled.

Being submissive is not being oppressed.

He needed the hand on his shoulder, the kiss to his temple and the hot, ragged breath of his Master over his face.

I like the idea of you on an island...""Oh...why's that?" She's squinting up at me, her eyes brighter than the sea in the setting sun."I could keep you all to myself. You'd be trapped, only able to come and go as I please...I'd be your Caesar..."She laughs and reaches her hand out to me, "Don't you already have that power...without need of a sea?

If he was in danger of anything at all, it was spontaneous submissive combustion due to his master’s teasing.

The reason why many are still troubled, still seeking, still making little forward progress is because they haven't yet come to the end of themselves. We're still trying to give orders, and interfering with God's work within us.

You cannot fulfil God's purposes for your life while focusing on your own plans.