It was inevitable to move from sub to Dom.
The first time a crop is in YOUR hand whistling in the air.
Satisfaction in your subs eyes as you glide into a room.
High-heeled Boots clicking on tile, resounding in their ears.
Corseted frame cinched oh so tight by your male-maid.
subs eyes averted but tempted to see Mistress.
Power to inflict pain yet never needing to.
The feel of well filled testes yearning to release,
The key to his CBT dangling on a necklace adorning
Full breasts that heave with every perfumed breath.
Tongues yearning to taste the essence of my loins.
Rumps, plump, firm and satin covered just waiting for a caress
Of a crop or the thrust of a shaft long firm and filled with promise.
Yes it was once my lot in life….Now ITS YOURS!
“One is not born a woman, one becomes one”…
Dear Simone de Beauvior, how true, how so very true!
