Songwriters find their best inspiration in the words of strangers. The distance allows them to hear more clearly. The subtle way a stranger will change the meaning of a word to fit their current world view and then change it back when it is convenient.

It’s easy to imagine this modern day troubadour sitting quietly in a cafe staring down at a plate of eggs and a cup of coffee trying to make sense of the world as it happens around him.

I’m not much different from him really, which I’m sure you’ll come to understand in time. The path of the righteous is both a blessing and curse. One, I am sure, you will bear with beauty and grace.

To break you is a gift. For both me and you. This is the line you say. Not out loud, but to yourself. This is where I won’t go. And then I push you past it. I give you a reason that makes it worth it. Your eyes glow at the moment and your lips swell. It’s when the breaking happens.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. The rules of writing suggest we tell the audience where you’re headed before you take them on the journey. That makes sense when it’s a cheap flight to Vegas, but less so when I’m detailing how you’ll end up cum filled and in tears. The first step to breaking you is to notice you. The way your breathing changes as my hands move across your body. The way you squirm when I whisper into your ear the things I want to do to you when no one is around. And especially, the things I want to do to you when someone could be watching. A purpose. Too many beautiful women have lived a life without a purpose. But that won’t be a problem for you. I trace your jaw line and then slap you gently while looking into your eyes and reminding you to serve your purpose. I’m glad your beauty won’t go to waste.

It’s easy to get wrapped up in a collar or a leash. Or being bent over my lap. To think that those are the kinks you should admit to. But you’re more complicated than that and that’s something I appreciate about you. The inspection. Your hands and knees against the cold table top. Your legs spread so I can see your cunt and asshole. My fingers touching and exploring. Looking down into your eyes. Your vulnerability spoken by the way you hold yourself for my judgment. My fingers trace your tight little cunt. I feel your wetness and continue to exploit your vulnerability.

I love the way you say thank you for giving you the opportunity to be inspected by me. The way your cunt tightens as a slide a single finger inside it, only to pull it out and run it against your lips before you clean it off. I’m in no rush to finish, but you feel the cold air against every part of you. You feel naked and afraid of what comes next. I don’t stop touching you as I my finger tips play with your pussy. My cock hardens as you begin to moan into the empty air. I unbutton my pants and allow you to offer up your throat to hold my cock. I love the way you ask if I’d like to slide my cock into your throat. It’s pretty when you ask like that. And as I slowly fuck your throat, taking you and letting you serve your purpose, I feel your cunt get wetter. Wet enough to drip down your thighs and onto the table. When I notice the wetness pooling under you, I put the collar and leash on you before pulling my cock out of your throat.

I then give you a simple task to clean up the mess you’ve made with your mouth. A tug on your collar speeds you up. I love your obedience and the way you follow my directions. So much so that even your orgasms are completely under my control. I can tell you to orgasm and without even touching you, you connect my words with your purpose and give into the orgasm that I’ve commanded.

I remind you that you are at your prettiest when you are broken. That your best self is the mess of a woman you become when you’ve pushed past the point of your own dignity and you give into my desires.