The Juxtaposition of Persona

It is a conundrum. It had puzzled him for years. On the surface it appears to be a simple situation. The simplicity masks a complicated maze of interwoven patterns that are constantly shifting and re-patterning, often with quite interesting results. As with any structure of such intricate interdependencies, movement or change in just one variable can have totally unexpected movement across a broad surface, creating ripples in multiple points that they intersect, creating harmonic enhancements in some places and chaotic interference in others. It tends to make life, in many ways, interesting. Or, it may be a curse akin to the old Chinese idiom, "May you live in interesting times."

He harbors a relationship of two sides. The persona of his public side and that side that existed for years and of which he most often referred to as the thing.

The loving, caring, supportive individual who delights in being the foundation of the DD/lg relationship. He wants to be the emotional and physical strength of the relationship. He wants nothing more than to make his lg happy, to see her prosper and grow. He delights in her childlike wonder. He is taken by her willingness to unconditionally love and accept. He also knows she is an intelligent and creative woman, independent and capable, creative and wise, and quite able to exist on her own without him. It is this that he admires most about her. The fact that she chooses, of her own free will and accord, to unconditionally gift to Daddy her loyalty, love and self, makes her, in his eyes, all the more special. She is, perhaps, as complicated a creature as he is, but that is a matter for another time.

He delights in his lg. He is happiest when he is with her and at his most low when she is absent.

The conundrum, then, is that persona that he keeps closeted in a dark and remote corner of his mind. The creature is always present, but kept controlled. Not chained, but held at bay by years of careful training and ever present attention. This thing, dark and malevolent, is kept leashed for good reason. Unleashed, he revels in his freedom. Unleashed, he answers to no one. Unleashed, he will fight to keep his freedom.

At times, He lets the thing into the light, but always on a carefully shortened leash. He, were He to be truthful, has just a bit of fear of the thing Himself. He fears letting the leash slip. He fears losing control. He fears not being able to put the thing back into its place. The thing, fears nothing or no one. The thing exists outside of care, interested only in its own satisfactions. It lives to feed its own hungers. It exists to maintain its own existence.

So the two exist. One unable to exterminate the other, only managing to maintain control. The one needing the other to remain extant and constantly struggling to gain control. A balance. A tightrope. A mutual hate/love interplay.

And now. lg discovers that she loves the thing almost as much as she loves him. Perhaps it is the fascination with the danger. Perhaps it is because the thing is him without the controls. Him as dark as the thing might be. So He finds one of the strings is moved, pulled, repositioned and all of that intricate web of associations in that darkly deviant mind begin to shift to restore the balance. It raises questions. It brings the need to establish new understandings. It creates discomfort in one place and a sense of opportunity for another. Him, noting the resetting of connections and the imbalance works to find a new equation. The thing, in its own way as intelligent and as adept as him, senses opportunity to slip the leash or, at the very least, to lengthen its reach.

Rebalance the equation. Conserve the comfort. Protect the status quo.

Push forward. Expand the opportunities. Advantage the situation.

How will the balance be found? Where will the new limits be set? How far will the leash stretch?

Other questions?

Where does lg want the balance? Where does lg want the new limits? How long does lg want the leash to stretch?

He, knowing that the answer to each of the questions will cause another round of equation balancing, thinks. Constantly.

And what does He think about? The balance. The constant pull and push. He thinks about Himself and the thing. How much stretch is there in the leash. How far can he set the boundary. How much of the thing does she want? How much does she need? How much can she take? He knows what the thing wants. Totality. Control. Her. What does He want. Her. Her happiness. Her love. Her devotion. That then are the variables in the equation. And they must balance.

Looking through the narrow confines of the darkened crack of the walls that had been built to keep the thing in check, the thing struggled to see. Glimpses. Snatches. Pieces of images and thoughts came to him piecemeal. They came when the control slipped. When the passages were momentarily widened. When He allowed the thing a moment of slack, a chance to feel a moment of freedom. It was rare. It was much to short and the leash still waiting to jerk back, to control, to limit. The thing rankled at the confinement, the boundaries, the ever present limitations which only fueled the things needs, whetted the things appetite and sharpened the things intents.

In the past the thing had rumbled and roared, beat itself against the walls and lunged against the leash. Time had dulled that energy. Now the thing waited, alone. Patience learned of impatience. Brooding need seething, bubbling like a cauldron of liquid steel. Waiting.

The hungers rage silently. Kept contained within the thing. Confined like the thing lest they drive him mad with need. Watching. The glimpses of light, the snatches of conversation, the waft of a smell. Tantalizing but the thing had learned long ago not to dwell on what might be, only what is. One of the what is was her. The thing had watched, listened, smelled. The thing knew her now. Slowly the thing had studied. The thing gathered the tiny morsels of her as they filtered through the narrowed openings of confinement. Bit by bit, she had become known. As the knowledge of her had grown, so had the desire, the want, the need. The thing spent long hours musing. The musing turned to desire, the desire to lust, the lust to obsession.

The thing wanted her. The thing wanted her without the controls He would impose. The thing wanted her free of the leash, free of the confines of the dark places that the thing was forced to inhabit. The thing wanted her without Him. The thing wanted to put Him on the leash, to put Him in the dark places, to force Him to watch through the narrow cracks of the twisted passages that the thing had so long been forced to occupy. That thought occupied the things mind, consumed it, ate at it, until the only thing thought that was left to the thing was the thought of her in the things hands.

So the thing waited, listening, smelling, watching. Each passing moment, each fleeting glimpse, each muted word, each tantalizing waft fueled the fire that burned white hot in the things deepest core until it existed as a white hot dwarf sun fueling the obsessive lust.

lg knows of the thing. He had told of it, had warned her of it, had let her glimpse the thing. She had seen the shadow of the thing. She had felt the warm breath of the thing and heard the voice of the thing. The mystery of the thing intrigued her. In many ways the thing intrigued her. She sensed the danger. It only heightened the excitement. She thought about the thing and about Him.

She had experienced moments of the thing. She knew that He carefully choreographed and managed those times. She knew that He went to lengths to keep the thing in check. But each time He had brought the thing into the light, she became more enthralled with the thought of the thing. Each time she experienced the thing, the more her thoughts were filled with the thing. Now she found herself wanting the thing, more of the thing, to experience the thing. The wonder and the excitement and the curiosity grew until she asked Him to bring the thing out to play.

He, wanting only to make her happy, agreed. He considered how much leash to allow the thing. He knew her well. He knew her fascination with the thing. He knew her need to test herself. He knew her wish to please Him and he guessed that, in some way, she knew that learning to love the thing would please him. So, he brought the thing out of the space where He kept it. He let the leash go slack and stepped back to watch. He was, he knew, prepared to jerk the leash and force the thing back into its confinement.

The thing waited. He caught wisps of conversation. He saw flashes of her. He could smell her as she pervaded His mind. The thing gritted its teeth. The thing growled deeply. The thing wanted. Then the thing saw the narrow confines widen. The thing felt the leash tighten. The thing knew that meant that He was coming. And like a birthing, the thing was in the light. The thing knew that the leash was there but it was surprisingly slack. The thing saw her waiting. The thing moved toward her, expecting the leash to tighten as she neared, but no tightening occurred, even as the thing was close enough to feel the heat from her body. The thing raised a hand to touch her, expecting to be jerked backwards as had happened before. The expected tightening of the leash didn't happen and a feeling of exhilaration flashed through the thing at the touch of her skin.

The thing walked around her, examining her in detail. She stood, eyes following as the thing circled her, like a beast circles its prey before springing. She saw the eyes, not His eyes now, but cold, hard malevolent and behind them a different light, something she hadn't seen before, something different. She studied those eyes as they roamed up and down her body. She shivered suddenly as she realized that what she saw behind the eyes was hunger.

The thing moved back in front of her and turned to face her squarely. The thing had seen her eyes, following and studying. The thing saw the shiver pass through her body. The shiver evoked a cold hard smile of knowing and understanding. A hand flashed out. A loud crack sounded through the room as her head snapped to one side and a red handprint sprang onto her cheek. The thing watched the look of surprise and pain fill her eyes.

"You will keep your eyes down, slut."

She looked at the eyes again, before dropping her head and staring at the floor. Without warning her head snapped to the other side just before the crack of skin on skin filled her ears and her face burned with the force of the contact. Tears filled her eyes and she struggled to comprehend what was happening when the soul freezing voice of the thing filled her ears.

"You will answer Yes Master when you are spoken too."

She stammered her reply.

"Ye. . Yes. . Yes, Master."

She felt the things hand as it ran over her arm and then across to her breast. Despite the stinging burn on her cheeks and the sudden chill of fear that was now coursing through her body, the touch on her breasts caused a familiar reaction. Her nipples tingled and began to distend. She could feel the wetness between her thighs as the hand brushed over her sensitized flesh. Her eyes closed as the fear and the arousal fueled each other.

The thing saw and felt her react to his touch. A hand slid down her belly and between her legs.

"Spread your feet slut."

"Yes Master"

Her feet shuffled and her legs parted. She shivered again and as fingers probed and invaded her now wet pussy, she moaned softly, keeping her head bowed and her eyes focused on the immaculately groomed boots that were the things. The fingers withdrew and the boots disappeared. From behind her she heard the commanding voice, speaking quietly.

"Bend over at the waist, slut, and spread your ass cheeks."

"Yes Master"

The thing watched as she bent at the waist. Her back parallel to the floor, her legs spread, her hands reached behind her and grasped the fine silky flesh of her ass cheeks and spread them wide. Her full firm breasts hung pendulously beneath her, swaying provocatively as she moved. The thing took his time, studying the lines of her legs, the curves of her body and the glistening swollen folds of her labia.

She felt the hand run over her ass cheek, touching her fingers as she held her self spread open and wide. She was exposed and vulnerable. She was lost in the emotions and feelings, strange and unusual, that were flashing through her body. In one way she felt disconnected yet each time she heard that voice or felt that touch, it was like the arousal ratcheted up a notch and her body operated independently of her consciousness.

Her mind, occupied with trying to sort the conflicting thoughts, nearly shattered when the finger was savagely impaled into her asshole. She shuffled a half step forward with one foot as the force of the entry shoved her forward. A half gasp, half scream, slipped past her lips and then morphed into a full scream as she felt the finger withdrawn and then brutally drive back into her tortured orifice.

Running a hand over her ass cheek, the things face creased with a steel like smile. A single long finger took aim and like a spear, aimed and delivered with perfect intent, drove into the heart of the puckered ring. As she staggered forward slightly, the finger reappeared slightly. The gasp and the muted scream brought a broadening of the smile and the unmuted scream born of surprise, pain and need, was music to the thing. The free hand slide up her back and fingers tangled in the long blonde curled hair at the back of her head and pulled back, dragging her backwards onto the invading finger.

The agony in her ass was overwhelming. As she focused on the intense burning aching pain emanating from the invading finger deep in her ass, she bit her lip and closed her eyes, concentrating in her attempt to come to terms with her situation. The torment continued unabated. The finger pistoned savaging her ass. Like a fire fueled with a sudden inrush of fresh fuel, her arousal surrounded the pain, consumed it and turned it into a level of sexual furor such as she had never known. The hand in her hair tightened and the finger fucking her ass became even more savage if that were possible.

The thing felt the change, felt as she began to thrust her ass back to meet the finger brutalizing her ass, felt the change in her breathing, felt the wetness that now ran in rivulets down her thighs from her sloppy swollen pussy. The smile that crossed the things face was a victory. It signaled the knowledge that she was just as the thing had believed. She was no longer His. She was now the things.

The explosion of lust that had consumed the pain inside her left her awash in unfamiliar and new emotions and thoughts. She was confused and struggled to make sense of what was happening to her body and in her mind. She felt the finger suddenly ripped from her ass as the hand at the back of her head jerked her upright. Through the chaos of her mind, she heard the voice again, cutting through the maelstrom of emotions.

"Focus cunt. Listen to me."

She mewed like a kitten as the words sliced into her addled brain.

"Forget what ever you were before. Forget what ever you thought you wanted to be. From this point on you are what I tell you to be. That is all you will be. From this time forward, you are mine. You will do, be and accept everything and anything I demand from you. Is that clear?"

Through the haze of her lust, need and pain, she finally managed to craft a reply.

"Yes Master"

The tightening of the leash refocused the things attention. A dark deep growl rolled from deep within. The hand jerked her head around as the thing spoke aloud.

She winced as she was pun half around, her head tilted back sharply, forcing her magnificent breasts out and bringing into His view. Her mouth, half open in sexual need, her eyes unfocused and half hidden by lust induced lethargy. Her brain registered that the thing was talking, not to her but to someone else despite there being no one but the two of them in the room.

"Look at her! Look at her! You want her happiness. That is all You claim to desire! Does she look happy? You want her to be whatever she wants to be? This is what she wants. This is what she wants to be. Are you going to deny her happiness, deny her being what she really wants to be? You want to hear it. You want to hear it from her?"

Her head shook back and forth as the hand in her hair moved. She heard the words but they barely registered. It took his cutting hard voice to bring her focus enough to answer.

"Cunt! What do you want? Do you want to be what you are now? Do you want to be mine? Do you want to be what I tell you to be? Will that be your happiness. Will that fill your wants and desires."

The words burned into her brain like a hot iron. She could not comprehend who the thing was talking to nor to whom she was answering. Her brain, assaulted on all sides by new, unfamiliar yet exciting sensations and desires, could only react, not think. She could only emote what her basest emotions were screaming already.

"Yes Master. Please. I want to be whatever you tell me. That is all I want."

She heard the deep rolling laugh before the voice came again.

"Is that answer enough. I will admit that she still loves you. She still wants you. She needs you in many ways. But the truth is that she must be what she is right now. To be who You want her to be, she also has to be what I tell her to be. She has to be this for the equation to balance."

The thing felt the leash go slack. There was no more tension. Looking at her, knowledge that the equation was in balance and the balance now lay where the thing wanted it.

He had watched. He had let the thing have its freedom. He had watched as she reacted and had seen her change quickly as the thing masterfully played her emotions like a fine instrument. He had heard the things words. He had heard her words and he knew that the balance was restored.

It took some time for her to comprehend the change. She knew she was different. She knew things were different. He had cared for her, loved her, soothed her. The days following were, in her mind, unbelievable. Her love for Him only grew. She was still unsure of where the balance was, how she fit into the intricate synergy. . She was still finding her own balance, her own place in the equation when the new paradigm was made crystal clear to her.

She heard the door open and close. She turned, smiling, expecting Him to gather her in his arms and kiss her as was His usual practice. Her eyes came up to meet his, expecting the warm expressive loving eyes and her breath caught in her throat. The eyes were cold, hard and behind them burned the same fire she had seen a few nights ago. She closed her eyes and dropped her head as a low moan seeped around her lips.

"So you know who I am cunt?"

"Yes Master."

"Good. Then strip and bend over the bed. Present your ass for me."

Without raising her head she quickly let her clothing pool at her feet, stepped to the bed and laid her torso onto the bed, her legs spread and her arms extended over her head. Something tucked into her hand. She had no idea of his intentions. All she did know was that at the first glance into those eyes she had become aroused. Just that quickly. Just that easily, she was lost again in the driving desire to be his.

Other eyes watched as well. As if behind a curtain, He watched. He saw her eyes. He saw the change. He saw the willingness, the want, the need. Inwardly he smiled. Balance.

She heard the door to the armoire open. She knew it held the collection. Inside were all of the implements and equipment that she had previously only dreamed of. She could not see what was happening. She could only anticipate.