But I can't find words to explain the desperation clawing in the pitch black recesses of my soul. While there is an absolute physical element to this, It's not even really sexual. I'd bask right now in the pain, torture, and humiliation of my utters...His pathetic heifer. Tied up heaving breasts. The verbal abuse that my tits are stark evidence of my whorish soul. I ache for nipples so sore from being sucked, pinched, and worried that they hang long angry and red...I want every man, woman, and child to see those fat hard nipples begging for His attention. ~sigh~ I fantasize of rope, rubber bands, and neckties. I can't help that I want more of what He did to me this morning. I long for His crop's fiery licks and His fist's merciless punches.
His utters crave use and abuse both physical and verbal. Fuck yes...His hot piss scorching the pale mounds and rosy nipples. His sick, twisted words. His sharp cutting teeth.
~sick~ I am nothing more than His empty canvas for His violent strokes to take me places I've never gone and only just begun to dream. As always...His pet, His meat, His greedy fucking heifer is at His mercy. I exist only under His Dominance.