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Do I love the man that can tie my feet up behind my head
and make me scream?
No.
For a few seconds yes.
But not for life.
Not any more.
It doesn't matter to me.
I am the Master of
*Pauses*
I submit to no one
*thinks*
yeah no one.
Fuck.
I do love that cock tho.
And that pussy.
And those tits.
And those legs.
And that hair.
I love that hair that I can pull.
And I love his teeth
on my nipples
I love his bite marks
on my neck
Then the opposing side of me speaks of need, speaks of love, speaks of dependance, not in an unhealthy way, but in an opening yourself up to others way.