H is for Hands and Knees, Bitch.

There is something so powerful and liberating about standing above a groveling male. What the weakling did to get into that position doesn’t really matter. All that matters is that I look wicked sexy in a pair of shiny black leather boots that have just been licked clean. He won’t be licking anything else so I don’t need to worry about his poor tongue being tired. If he makes the mistake of saying anything other than what I instruct him to say he’s quickly reminded who’s boss by the slap of my strong hand across his face. Life is so easy when you just say what I tell you to. For so long you’ve made things so complicated by trying to think with your brain and that pathetic, tiny piece of meat hanging between your legs. Since your little penis reminds me of an ant I’m going to treat it like one. That means crushing it under my sparkling boot while you cry like the little bitch you are. If you’re a good boy that I think is capable of learning I’ll let you watch a real man fuck me. I have so many ways to train a little loser like you. Don’t forget to say thank you after each painful and humiliating thing I do to you. We both know you love every mean thing I say and do to you. Since you will never be fucking me, your only purpose is to be fucked *with*. If you can’t do that right, I have no problem kicking you to the curb. This is all about me. It has always been and will always be about me. I am the center of your universe and you are a pathetic piece of shit. I just love how you keep crawling back for more. I’m only being mean if I don’t enjoy it and I love every second of it.