..They have no clue of the things I think about while they are gone,
God, sometimes they were all you thought about. The way their hands would force you down, how they would hold you, gently caressing your skin. The way they would nibble, or bite on my skin. Wanting them to mark you all over, say that you belong to them, and you have to repeat it. letting tie you up, for their own pleasure and your own torture, allowing them to use you. Being their personal toy for them to use as they please. Getting a collar around your neck, being forced on your knees. Begging for them, asking for them, staying quiet for them. Wanting to be punished for misbehaving, wanting rewards when behavings. Letting them remind you of your place, adoring and admiring them. Letting them take your clothes off for you, kissing you as a way to keep quiet. Allowing them to pour was or ice on your skin, making you shiver. The words of humiliation I wish to hear from them, words of praise and compliment too. I want them to let me suffer and feel pleasure. I want to please them, help them. I want to listen and disobey. I want to fulfill them and anger them, I want to experience so much with them. Whether it's outside or inside, risky or safe, new or usual. I want them to overstimulate me in many ways, or edge me. God, anything with them is amazing.
