Firm Man, happy girl

My brain is my own worst enemy sometimes and you’ve conquered it for me. You’ve slain the dragon, rescued me from the tower. You’ve turned me into a blissed out, brainless doll just for you and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

There’s the obvious reason. I want to give up control.

Shutting my own brain off isn’t something I can accomplish on my own. I need someone to do it for me. The intense desire to be owned like that is sometimes overwhelming.

But it can’t just be anyone. It has to be someone who really understands what’s going on in my head. Who sees the chaos, reaches in anyway and says, “Here, let me take care of that for you.”

They see me, all the fucked up little bits and pieces that make me up and still want to break me. They welcome the challenge. Not only do they see how badly I want it, but how much I need it too.

And what it comes down to is no matter how badly I want to be mindless, to be corrupted, brainwashed and molded, they found me because they need me to be that way too.

I need them just as much as they need me.

So it can’t just be anyone. It has to be someone who sees the real me and decides they have what it takes to take the plunge.

If you want to break my mind, you have to really see me.

esther is always awake before me. her movements are gentle careful not to disturb me, but deliberate enough that feel her presence. A cup of coffee waiting, eyes lowered, voice barely above a whisper.

It isn't about obedience, it's about devotion. The kind that doesn't need words just quiet service, quiet pride. That's how I know the day will go well. She remembers who we are before the world intrudes.

I’ll literally be waiting tables and it’s so hard to concentrate because my panties are soaked, I’m so horny and wet I just want to reach down and touch myself.

They’re asking me a question about wine and I’m staring at the corner of the table thinking about how nice that would feel against my throbbing clit.

Like even that stack of trays is starting to look real enticing to rub against.

I just want to stop thinking and get on my knees and beg for your cum.

It’s getting to a point where I may just have to sneak off to the bathroom for some semblance of relief.

Maybe stop asking me what wine goes well with that steak and watch me rub my dripping pussy instead?

Just let me be a cumslut please.

Please just let me be a cumslut.

Please.