The Secret Garden

I wrote this late at night for B after a conversation I couldn’t get out of my head with some dearly loved submissive friends about how our Dominants help to grow and cultivate our subspaces. If you’re not familiar with subspace, start with my post here and then come back and read my little late night, subspace fueled love note.

The Secret Garden

Crossed legs she sits, her long hair falling over her exposed shoulder as she plucks the petals on her favorite flower “He loves me” she whispers as each petal grows back before her eyes in the garden. Her garden.

The sweet floral scent filling the air as the bees hum, rays of sunshine illuminating the shades of pinks and greens and purples that grow around her. A brook babbles almost as much as she does and birds chirp almost as sweetly. 

The flowers bloom when she blooms. She knows the flowers are only as strong as the roots beneath the ground and makes sure her feet are always firmly planted.  It rains, even in the garden, and she loves how the rain helps her flowers grow. She embraces the storms but protects her flowers, always minding the balance between the soft and the hard. 

She tends to each of her flowers and takes care to help them grow.  She dreams up stories of strength and vulnerability and Beasts and beauties. Of strong women and the even stronger men that guide them. She speaks of pain and pleasure, blushing slightly although she is alone in the garden. 

The Beast, her Beast, is never far and stands guard just outside the iron gate. The Beast is strong and fierce and carries her to the garden gate in His arms every night. He makes sure she gets inside safe and sound and never lets anyone disturb her when she’s hidden within its vine covered walls. Her garden is just for her, an escape from the world that doesn’t understand beauties who love only Beasts and flowers. 

She hears His growl and knows she’s safe. She’s always safe in the garden. Her garden. He can’t come in, but she knows He planted all the flowers.

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