Very Good Girl

Occasionally I can find threads, hints things that have changed that maybe weren't this way to begin with.

I can't remember him influencing me into long-term denial, but I can barely remember the feeling of trepidation at the idea of giving up control of my orgasms.

I don't remember exactly if it was his idea or mine that I enjoy the feeling of being possessed. But I remember wanting to make sure that I wasn't exceeding his comfort level with the amount of control I wanted.

I have no idea whether it was his idea or mine that I am his toy, his hypnoslut, his cocksucker... There are no threads left for me to follow back to find where those things came from.

*giggles*

You're always such a very good hypnoslut for me.

I love the shuddered gasping and the heady feel that follows the embrace's closing note.

I adore the blade that trails my skin in flourishes, leaving blood in droplets in it's wake.

I adore the stillness when it's pressed against my neck and the predatory stare that makes me shake.

I cherish every condescending thing they say, and the embarrassment that makes me hide my face.

I cherish the remarks when I can't meet their eyes, and the bittersweetness of my pride displaced.

But I do not care so much about delivery. It's the feeling of control on which I dote.

I find that my body will throb just thinking about how he's told me it's not my decision. I am a toy. Orgasms are accessories. Toys cannot accessorize themselves and he's chosen not to play with me that way.

I like you dumb and horny

And so you are

I like you easy and submissive

And so you are

Because I made you that way

And you love it

Never stop.

I want you needy

Clingy

Greedy

Desperate

Hungry