What happens to my writing when I have sick brain. Cabin fever and restlessness, it drives me insane and makes me fantasize all the more about the delicious man who owns me.
I dream of his fingers tracing patterns down my spine. Whispers of sweet nothings, he tells me, “You’re mine.” What his hot breath would feel like on the back of my neck. Without you, Sir, I’d truly be a wreck.
He grips the hem of my shirt and pulls it off of me. No bra so my tits are on display for him to see. He smirks before he pulls down my pants. “No panties today, you are a slut indeed.”
Completely naked as his hands roam my body. They explore every inch, every dip, every curve. “Sir, are you pleased with me?” He says nothing, but continues to touch me.
Naked and awaiting his command. Will he spank me? Will he fuck me? What is he planning on doing to me?
Silence and he continues to inspect my body. Anticipation and suspense. Does he really want me? “Sir, are you going to fuck me?”
“Shhh…silence slut!” He spanks my ass hard then pushes me to my knees. “Spread your knees and put your hands behind your head.” I comply; I do as he says.
He begins to circle me as if he is trying to intimidate me during an interrogation. “Who do you belong to?” My eyes look up to meet his. “I belong to you, Sir.”
As time goes on, I desire to be humiliated and degraded by Sir all the more. With sick brain, my greatest longing is to be his dirty little whore.
The Sassy Sub Daily