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To me, it's not just about texting. Yes, you are my bitch, we should have a connection on every level. You are a loser who should lose up… while you take your shoe off, be on your knees crawling towards me telling how hectic your day was. You always need to know that if you are being punished by me. Your ass would be spanked. And your response to every spank is Don't stop mommy, I deserve more!!!
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I Want to Be Held in the Shape of a Rule
Tell me what you expect of me. Not to control me, but to cradle me.
I don’t want freedom—I want direction. I want ritual. Rhythm. Something that wraps around me like rope, like rules I’m desperate to obey. Because when you give me structure, I stop unraveling. My body softens. My mind hushes. I stop performing and start belonging.
I want to know the words you like to hear and when to say them. I want to know where my knees go, how long to hold eye contact, when I’m allowed to whimper. I want your rules to live in my body. I want to break apart in the places you’ve told me it’s safe to.
And when I do it right—when I serve well, kneel properly, ache exactly how you want me to? That’s when I shine. That’s when I feel owned in the most sacred way. Not because you took me, but because I offered myself fully and you knew what to do with me.
Structure doesn’t dim me. It sanctifies me. It tells me: You don’t have to carry yourself alone.
