Kitten,
What I want from you, little one, is what I’ve always wanted: I want you to say “yes, Sir,” and mean it.
I want to tell you what to do and, whatever I say, I want you to answer “yes, Sir.”
“Kitten, kneel.”
“Yes, Sir.”
When you come to me, Kitten, I want you to leave your free will at the door. I want you to walk in knowing that I’m going to possess you, command you, own you, and use you for my pleasure — and that you’ll submit without hesitation to whatever I demand. Even when you know it’s going to be challenging, uncomfortable, painful.
You know, Kitten, that I won’t relent, that I won’t stop once I’ve started, no matter how much you protest or try to pull away. You know that I like it when you try to escape, when you try to pull yourself up the bed so that I can’t thrust so deeply into you. I enjoy grasping your hips and holding you still, pulling you slowly back toward me as I drive myself slowly into you. I enjoy it when it’s challenging for you and yet you submit to me. I want you to feel helpless, to believe that you really have no choice except to endure it and wait for the pain to pass and the pleasure to come. And you know it does, Kitten: the pleasure always comes, eventually.
I want your little body writhing beneath me. I want to tell you to be still, and to watch you struggling to obey. I want you moaning and closing your eyes tightly and clenching your fists — so close to coming that you feel as if you could with just a touch. I want you on the verge of tears, breathing so hard you feel faint, completely surrendered to the sensations of being possessed and used and manhandled and pushed to your limits.
I want you choking on my cock. I want you to wait for each breath, to wait with my cock in your throat, knowing that I’ll pull back in time for you to gasp and swallow and be ready for the next rough thrust as I hold your head and push you down on my cock. I want you gagging, coughing, choking, and powerless to stop it, depending on me to let you breathe when you have to.
I want you to say “yes, Sir,” and mean it, no matter what I tell you. I want you. MY Kitten.
YOUR
Sir