Tell me a story.
I want to hear from your dark places. I want to know the things that make you cringe, the things that force your eyes away from mine as you speak.
Tell me what brought you here, on your knees at my feet. Tell me what flickered across your mind when you first saw me, and how it made you feel. What parts of you began to twitch?
Did you think you were going to come here and make me do all the work? I don’t think so, darling. You move through the wider world with a privilege you barely notice, but you don’t have that here. Here, you need to try. You need to make a bit more of an effort. You need to swallow your pride and open your mouth, however embarrassed you are. You are safe here, but you need to try your best.
Tell me what corrupted thoughts keep you awake at night. Tell me what glimmers across the screen of your mind when you close your eyes. Tell me what images burn into your consciousness at the moment of release, of abandon.
Describe it to me. In detail.
Look up. Look me in the eye. This is the first step in becoming mine, of earning your place at my feet. I know what you need already, and darling, I’ll give it to you – but you must prove to me that you are brave enough to take it. The gift of ownership is only given to those who truly deserve it.
Tell me how you wrapped your own belt around your neck, closed your eyes and imagined that I was standing over you. Tell me how you suffer quiet humiliation at the office, your lacy knickers hidden beneath your smart suit trousers. Describe to me how you deny yourself release for days at a time, until you can barely stand it.
Tell me about the bad things you’ve done. The shameful things. You’re safe here, but I need you to be honest. I want to know exactly what you are, so I know how to make you better.
And I will make you better. I will help you become the very best submissive you can possibly be.
But first, tell me a story.