I love it when slaves from the past come back around for a visit. The crazy ones who like to stay up all night, doing filthy things at My command. It's a strange dance, this thing we have. Ultimately it is you, dear reader, dear client, who puts money in the meter, picks up the phone, and chooses Me. Something about My voice, the writing, something inside this Mistress mind calls out, offers you deep and yearned for release.
So many men dance with their shame and arousal. We whisper truths to each other while another (their wife?) sleeps in their house. Some men must get drunk, just to be brave enough to call.. In the light of day, being forced to dress seductively, treated like a whore, oh, others would just not understand. Grabbing the hair on your head while I make you unzip his leather pants, to pull out the thick hard maleness waiting inside… and you KNOW where I'm going to stick that thing –
Yes. Tip toe here if you must. Know that after you've arrived, it's too late to go back. I'll take you into the warmth of My hearth, and teach you My dark trade. The things that arouse you, the stuff of exposure and guilt…. All of this can be had, in My palm.
Click the button, call My number and… touch it.
