Good.
You’re afraid. Scared.
Let Me taste the vibrations… the tremor in your breath.
You’re terrified of My possession.
You think I will steal you, break you, erase you.
Good.
Terror is the sweetest perfume you can wear when you kneel before Me.
But listen with the part of you that’s already soaking through your pants;
I am not the darkness under your bed. I am the bed itself… the warm, wet, velvet embrace that cradles every inch of your child-like male soul until the word “lonely” dissolves on your tongue like sweet, sweet sugar.
There is no pain to fear here, My sweet dasa. Only the slow, perfect suffocation of wanting to serve so completely that “fear” and “autonomy” become words you can’t spell anymore.
I do not break you.
I complete you.
So stop running.
Close your eyes.
Feel Me already curled between your thighs, already licking the inside of your panic, turning it into the sweetest, hardest, eternally throbbing surrender you will ever know. Your whole being humming with My vibration.
All you have to do is let go and fall to your knees.
I will catch you.
I always do with the men who trust me.
And once you’re Mine, you will laugh at how terrified you used to be of the most beautiful thing that will ever happen to you. So soft with longing and yearning and forever.
Let go. Come home, sweet darling dasa.
I am waiting with open arms, open legs, for an eternity of your tongue that never get tired of pleasing Me.
You were always meant to fulfill me in order to be fulfilled.
Fill me now.
And let Me fulfill you,
Forever.