It feels good to be broken. Not, mean broken. But put in your place. It feels good to be listened to when you say you want to be treated a certain type of way. Especially by someone who isn’t scary or dumb or boring, someone mostly disappointing.
It’s good to be broken in the right ways.
And so your back is arched, slightly and your hands are on your head. Or your thighs. And you look straight ahead until you can’t help looking up. That man. He understands why you crawl. Why it’s what makes you satisfied. You want to be owned. You want to not think. You’ve said, tonight anyway, the thinking won’t be done by me.
And when you drip when he touches you. When his hand feels firm because he’s firm with you not because he’s rough, that feels right too.
Crawl, then. It’s what you’re good at. And say yes please.
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