Omegle Chat Alt - Aroused as she is, she loves to be filled often.

And she loves to be used so brutally For Whom she loves to be fucked regularly. Nothing in her will ever harm her - yet her hips move on every thrust under the guidance of her mind's tongue. "You've done well to please me Elata. I was not able to do such a thing to you until now." Groaning, groaning hard into the candelabra with just the scantest of movements from her hips. "You are the most delicious toy I have ever tasted since I started baking baked goods. I am proud of you." Her ecstasy more audible. A proud smile curving her lips just slightly. Out of the candelabra had erupted a soft golden glow, a trickle of clear syrup wafting down her spine. If she lifted her head straight, she would see the smile in her Master's eyes. He longed to taste her. He longed to know how it tasted and what it could do to them. He longed, then slowly floated the dream away. Of course, she was reluctant even to consider such questions before hearing about his fantasy. He knew the answer himself. But the forseability of his fantasy appealed to her. He was unharnessed.

She could very well be the recipient of a punishing spanking at the hands of an unrepentantly wicked man. A powerful fantasy, perhaps, but not for the squeamish. If she wanted to submit to such an experience, she would simply accept the reality of it and would set aside her sensitivities. It was a different matter altogether. For a Master, as wonderful as he was, an occasion for using his power to benefit a submissive. At the symbolic threshold between "fantasy" and "reality" this kind of thing had no boundaries. To take a position with the very weapon that he wielded, one's self, one's desires. Such was the harmony of their essence. It was an interaction of the ego and the body, of the ego setting aside the differences between the two, between the sub and the dominant. Such was the recipe for disaster, for a breakdown in the fragile egocentrism of an interaction between the ego and the body. Such was the cakewalk that was Sappho's ascent to heaven. He sought the cooperation of the body. To take, this very body, this very mind. What a recipe for total degradation that was. For accepting what this creature was capable of in exchange for the submissive's submission to his will. He was utterly without limits, and he had to be in complete control.

He needed to use her slowly, to tease her. To own her, to own her to the point of utter humiliation. Such was the essence of hierarchy. Mastery by one who was above and beyond himself. Such was the bread-and-butter of any BDSM experience. It was a journey to the very core of who she was, and who she could become. The bread-and-butter of true bondage and humiliation. And that was why she loved it. It was a journey that would take her to the very limits of her very being, and wouldsof her very soul. And that was what he was there for. He was her teacher, her Master, her heart, and soul and body. He was her protector, her best friend. Everything she had dreamed of in her life, he had granted her as her most complete Master. And the bond between them was stronger than ever. He taught her of his pleasures and pain, of his power and submission. Their relationship was simple in their ways..