|
|
|
|
I seek only to train the sharp tounge of My lil one that I might hone her to perfection with the sharp snap of My crop and the loud crack of My whip and the sight of a good little wench at My feet
You belong to those who see you. Step high, step proud. I can forgive some faults, but lack of spirit isnt one of them
Fear Me not, for I am but a dream that comes to haunt you while you sleep Awaken My love, to the Dark Desires of My heart that shall become your own
|
|
|
|
