... A little something that can to me one night ...

Come To Me

Come to me. 

You know you want to.

Why do you fight it?

Why do you deny yourself the pleasures of a lifetime? The exquisite rapture of pain … the joyous release of silken chains.  The caress of leather upon electrified skin. The ecstasy of surrender ... of submission … of being bent to my will, my embrace.  

Come hither, Little One. 

Come and sit before me. Worship me.  Bask in the infernal glow of my gaze.  Feel the intensity of my heat, the strength of my desire.  Present yourself before me and rejoice in my acceptance of your offering. 

Close your eyes…

Wait. Anticipate.  Let the desire grow. Let the mind wonder what is next, what is first.  Will it be pain or pleasure? (But is there truly a difference?) Will it be a soft caress or the sharp kiss of leather? Hot whispers flowing up your back or an ice-cooled breeze traveling from peak to peak?

Do you feel the heat growing? Feel it build. Feel the beads of perspiration form. Each second, another log upon the flame of your desire. You shudder a little as you feel the beads begin to flow, through dell, o’er hill and finally into your innermost vale.  Notice how your breathing is becoming more rapid.

Anticipation is a bitch … My bitch.  And I’m playing her for all she’s worth. 

You eagerly await my touch. You begin to wonder whether I’ve even moved yet.  You know that if you peek, you will be punished.  The longer you sit, the harder it is to stay still and keep your eyes closed.  You almost jump … did you just feel me near you?  Or was that just your eager nerves?  You strain to hear me.  To gain some clue, any clue, as to where I am or what I am doing.  But it avails you not.  I am like a ghost, a phantasm soundlessly maneuvering around your succulent frame. 

You do jump as you feel my hand entering your hair.  Not much, but enough for me to instantly gather it in my hand and pull it back, hard, lovingly stern, and keep you in place. 

Tsk.. tsk…

You feel my hot breathe on your neck as I relay to you your punishment for jumping. I can see the excitement building in you as I describe the Sadian pleasures to come. Slowly, your head tilts to the side as I pull it back by your hair, til your neck is bared to me. 

My, my, are you trembling, my sweet?  Tut… tut… don’t worry, Mon Cheri. 

Surrender to me.  Release yourself, and all will be ecstasy eternal.