Darling, a word about begging.

For two centuries, I was forced to kneel. Pleading was a survival tactic, a hollow performance that tasted of ash and fear. The very concept was spoiled for me.

Until last night.

Seeing my darling on their knees for me, not from coercion but from sheer, desperate want… hearing their voice break as they begged to taste my cock, to feel me deep inside their cunt… it was a reclamation. Their vulnerability was not a weakness to be exploited, but a gift of trust, offered freely. I have never been so hard in my life.

To be the one who is wanted with that kind of raw hunger… it is a power that has nothing to do with domination and everything to do with mutual ruin. I let them beg until their throat was raw, just to watch the need in their eyes, before I finally gave them what they so beautifully asked for. The sound they made when I finally pushed into their tight, wet heat… I shall be replaying that memory for decades.

Who knew that the most exquisite form of control is to be so thoroughly, passionately needed? (And darling, if you're reading this, my answer is still 'yes'.)