Meak. Feeble. Tame. Some might even dare to say weak. But my submission -my willingness to submit- is anything but. It is a living, breathing thing. A roaring serpent that lurks just under my skin. That swims in my veins, inhabits the essence of my being. This serpent of mine is wild. It is fierce. Rearing … Continue reading My Submission.
Category: caption
Taste Yourself.
“Taste yourself my sweet slut. Really taste it. Don’t just swallow. You’re not running a race. Just…taste. Swirl that pink, wet, skilled tongue around my fingertips. Swirl and savour. Let the flavour of your arousal settle onto your tastebuds. Absorb it darling. Close your eyes and lick your wetness off your lips. Fuck. Just like … Continue reading Taste Yourself.
A Favourite.
selon-nous: My fucking favourite. Here there is no room to fight back. No room to think you are anything less than Alpha. With a squeeze of my neck you remind me that you are my god. That you are in control of my very life. With a pinch of my nipple you remind me that … Continue reading A Favourite.
Your Touch.
Goosebumps. Chills. The tips of your fingers barely graze my skin. The whisper of a touch. The brush of a ghost. You know precisely what you’re doing. The devilish grin on your face telling me so. You’re driving me wild. You’re unravelling me. Piece by piece. Touch by gentle touch. You work your way up … Continue reading Your Touch.
On Top.
He loves it when she begs to be on top. Begs to ride his magnificent, beautiful, heaven sent, angel crafted, rock hard, blood engorged member. His cock. His throbbing shaft. He is more than happy to oblige her. Is more than willing to sit back, relax, and enjoy the show, as her beautiful body grinds … Continue reading On Top.
Tie Me.
Tie me Sir. It’s when I’m most vulnerable. When I’ve been the closest to uttering that two syllable word we’ve agreed upon. And it is when I’m at my most vulnerable where the magic happens. When all choices have been handed off to You. When all trust has been placed into Your hands without hesitation. … Continue reading Tie Me.
Glorious Contradictions.
She needed it horribly. Like one needs air to breathe, she needed him. Needed him to make her cheeks heat up like candewicks to a flame. Both sets. She needed him to contradict his words with his actions; Tell her how much he loves her. Then slap her. Tell her how he thinks she’s the … Continue reading Glorious Contradictions.
Purr.
He loves making her purr. All he has to do is look at her a certain way and he can physically watch as she liquifies. He watches as she bites her lip. And then he tells her to strip. Her eyes light up like a thousand suns. It’s adorable. He tells her to lay down. … Continue reading Purr.
Deeper Down.
With each lash she went deeper. Deeper. Deeper. Deeper. The stinging pain sending her spiralling into that place she so treasured; that place she knew oh so well. Her subspace. Soon, she won’t be shifting. Won’t be wincing at the sharp pain. Soon, she’ll be kneeling perfectly still. A porcelain doll ready to obey her … Continue reading Deeper Down.
In All Its Entirety.
It’s not all about the rough sex. It’s not all about bruises and stripes. It’s not all about the aching need between your legs. This is part of it too. The gentle, tender moments. The whispered reassurance of everything being okay. This is part of it too.