The first rose of summer. Sent to me from the garden of the Devil. I have never met a man so calm. So peaceful. I can picture him now sitting in his garden surrounded by his beautiful roses. He has worked hard and tended to them all year so he can sit quietly now and enjoy watching them flower.

I feel like one of his roses. He gives me so much attention. When we are together he sits quietly while I talk on and on about anything and everything. There is a quote from John Ruskin that has always appealed to me: ‘Do not think you can make a girl lovely, if you do not make her happy.’ He goes on to explain that every harsh word or criticism given to a woman will read on her features. The Devil is a man who makes me lovely. I get no harsh words. No criticism. Like his roses, all I receive is tender loving care.

Perfect right? And yet not. BDSM is a lifestyle for me. He is a natural dominant in the bedroom for sure but not in the world. He is too unsteady with me. Too fearful of losing me. I have all the power. And I know it. There are no checks on my behaviour. No demands. I am a wild rose allowed to grow however I decide. He will encourage every choice I make. From the heavy criticism I have experienced with other dominants, he is a breath of fresh air. And as lovely as his praise makes me feel, it is a balance of both I seek.

In the bedroom he has it. Gentle and firm. He leaves me drained and still yearning for more. I am his whore. In life I call the shots. I have the power to pull it all away from him. And we both know it.

The peaceful man treads carefully praising and caressing his beautiful rose hoping his sweetness will keep me in the garden.

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