She sits there waiting for you smoking a cigarette. In her boots and black leather holding her whip she is the stuff of your dreams who has become your nightmare.
She controls your every waking moment. From the moment you awake until the time she allows your exhausted body rest you labor for her. You hold down a grueling job to pay her tribute. At home you cook and clean. You are her servant and slave.
And her whipping post. Nothing you do satisfies her. You must be punished she says. And even if you don’t she delights to see youo whimper, happily watches tears stream down your face.
Originally posted 2014-11-06 23:18:09.