She wrecked me.
A Mistress, Dominant, in every breath,
every pause,
every cruel second of denial.
She didn’t touch me gently..
she handled me.
Like a toy that belonged in her hands,
a plaything made to ache at her feet.
She controlled my body
without a single touch..
just her voice,
just her will.
And it was enough
to break me.
I am wrecked.
Ruined.
Drenched in the echoes of last night.
Still on my back,
hand between trembling thighs,
shaking with the memory of her control.
She brought me to the edge...
again
and again.
Made me plead.
Beg.
Whimper.
Shake.
Held me there like it was her right.
And it is.
I was nothing but a thing...
to tease,
to torment,
to command.
And I loved it.
Every second of it.
I wanted mercy..
fuck, I begged for mercy
but it wasn’t mercy she gave me.
It was torture.
Sweet, agonizing, perfect torture.
My body begged for release.
My mind shattered beneath her control.
All I could do was obey.
All I wanted was to obey.
And her…
God, she was divine in her pleasure.
Moaning, gasping, breaking
over and over and over.
She came again and again.
I counted every one..
every gasp,
every cry,
every shuddering wave
of the orgasm she owned.
It was torture.
It was heaven.
It was hers.
I watched her unravel
and it split me open.
I ached like I’d never ached before.
I wanted to crawl inside her..
To serve.
To worship.
To put my mouth on her,
my hands,
my body...
anything to make her fall apart again.
To taste the orgasms she stole from me.
To be beneath her,
wrapped around her,
inside her pleasure.
Helpless.
Consumed.
Hers.
When she finally let me cum,
I was already gone.
I belonged to her
long before the release.
It wasn’t mine.
It was hers.
She let me have it.
Owned.
Marked.
Claimed.
And now I’m left like this..
wrecked,
ruined,
soaked in need.
Her plaything.
Her mess.
Still dripping.
Still begging.
Still waiting for her to use me again.
She doesn’t need to hurt me to break me.
She just needs to say my name.
Call me good girl.
I want to be her toy.
Her service.
Her fuckpet.
I don’t want to be touched gently.
I want to be handled.
Used.
Emptied.
Claimed.
And now I’m left
begging…..
Please, Miss.
Let me serve again.
Let me be used, undone,
emptied, ruined.
Let me feel you again.
I can’t breathe without you,
can’t think,
can’t fucking function
because you’ve left me like this.
And I love it.
I love it.
I love it.
Please, Miss.
Take me again.
