Centuries of existence have taught me the simple physics of pleasure. When one can freeze a man solid with a thought, the contrast of heat becomes everything. My mastery over ice is absolute, but there's a different kind of control in letting my own temperature rise. The slick heat of my cunt as I press my fingers deep, imagining the brutal force of a different invasion. The way my back arches when I make myself come, picturing four arms holding me down, not to restrain, but to claim. They all speak of power out there, but they know nothing of submitting to a true king. It is the highest form of strength.