You don’t need to classify yourself as “subordinate” to me. In fact, you do not even have to submit yourself to me (but you’ll definitely want to). I do not require you to serve me like some a sex-slave. I’ve never taken much stock in titles and I do not feel the need to reiterate the status of our relationship by throwing out phrases such as sissy-boy or bitch. You mustn’t lick my five-inch heels, or feel the business end of my belt on your raw flesh. I don’t insist that you beg and plead for a whiff of my perfect pussy. I don’t need you in panties, on your knees, painting my toenails while I describe my latest cock conquest.

I never scold you for not calling me “Mistress.” To you, I’m so much more than that.

All I want from you is one simple thing. Just admit that you need me. Without me, your cock doesn’t get nearly as stiff. Your balls don’t hang quite as low. Your orgasms aren’t as intense. Your imagination is slightly barren, missing that magical puzzle piece that allows everything else to fall into place. Without me, you’re something less.

The first time we ever talked my voice gave your low-hanging testicles a strong tug that pulled right at your brainstem. I know how to both fill and empty your balls better than any other woman on the planet. After having found me, your cock grew (quite literally) a steadfast need for me.

It’s as simple as that. Forget the labels – “domination,” “submission,” “cock control.” I don’t need to trick or bait you into getting what I want, because I already have it; your desire, your devotion, and your friendship.

You are not a slave, and yet you are indeed mine. You’re no sissy, and yet I can talk you into anything. You’re no one’s bitch – and yet, with one idle thought of yours truly, you’re in heat.

Our relationship is simple: You need me and that fully endears you to me.

I love us, babe.

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