I want to make something clear before I begin this letter, no, two things, the first is that you should feel free to write me back. I know you are probably not going to want to spend your time doing that, but a conversation would be great. You can leave your reply in the comments, or just link to it, second, as much as I do end most of my letters with “submissively yours” (this isn’t going to be an exception) I’m not your sub right-now (at least not yet) ,
How are you doing? Are you in a stable relationship? Are you enjoying the weather, its been very chaotic here. It seems like the clouds are hanging too low for spring, really. Like a wet dogs jowl’s hanging over my little burg. I like the rain, is soft and clear, like an often recited quip, fog reminds me of an embrace from the sky. I spend my time in my own ways, mostly alone, walking. I’m often left wondering why I’m out and about so much. No real point to it, it’s just what I do I guess. If you’re wondering why I addressed this note to the power half of the phrase “power play”, and really I am wondering that a bit myself. I’ll answer, it’s because I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while, and as much as I chase, I cant seem to get closer.
Perhaps I should define who I’m talking to right now, by Dom I don’t mean some over-sexed leather jockey, or even any thing that involves sex. Power play is the core of the little world we have as humans, and those people who know how to exude power, and who control others for the joy of having control. That’s what I’d define a Dom as. I pass by you constantly, unaware of most of you, as you me, so I’m sending my call into the dark, Hoping for answering shout.
In submission yours