I’ll tell you my innermost thoughts but you’ll see only filthy desires.
I hear you say “Come over here.” An innocent phrase, but it makes me want to crawl to you. To say, “Yes, Mistress,” and wait for your next command.
Gazing up in adoration. Waiting to be beaten, punished, taken, humiliated and fucked. Waiting to hear the order to pleasure you. For most I’m a Master, for you I’d trade in my paddle for a collar, at least for a while.