Hello, My Love.
Sunday morning is among us and I hear church bells as I stand outside, taking in the alpine air. Why don’t you step into my den of sin because the first service is in session.
Stepping to the pulpit is none other than the man who can make you sing like a choir girl with the snap of his wrist, so why don’t you find that little subspace you like to visit and let me guide you to the altar.
I need your little apple bottom to be Red Delicious for me and I know you need it even more. Give yourself some cracks for Daddy in anticipation.
Over my knee, Kitty Cat. I need some leverage for your spankings. I need for you remember me a week from tomorrow when you pull those pants down and stare at yourself in the mirror, giggling inside and recounting all the hard handprints that decorate your beautiful delicate once olive skin.
You are getting wet just reading this, aren’t you? Goddamn, Daddy has his hands full, doesn’t he?
Go ahead and touch her for me. Yeah, just like that. How’s she taste? You know I need to know.
Your ass is mine Kitten and I intend to show you, so just bask in the temptations for a bit while I give you the most intense mental foreplay this world has ever known, testing your willpower with the words only I can craft, all directed at you Babygirl.
So how wet are you now? A bit more? Touch her. Just touch. Find a quiet place and touch.
It’s Sunday morning after all. The second service is almost here.
Go to church on yourself for me.
Also published on Medium.