Women, given the symbols get into it. They learn how to take tear into it, ride with the Power feel and later, shocked at their acts need to do it, nevertheless, again oh shame. oh glory. .
my correction for wanting Her is to be scolded and smacked my weak hardness goes limp as She has me count out sometimes i cannot walk well enough for a day and half sleep on my gut
rehearing Her words, Her scorn i am full of Herself, in my need for the strength of Her stroke .
i want to serve a sentence of humiliating labor the camp of hard as nails Women in boots with no smile and an oath to gut the male and make him obedient and soft.
She knew i couldn't take ten but i pleaded for ten, and signed a waiver for Her. i felt the damage by three so by four i begged for no more but She kept to Her word intersected my buns with hard lines Her signature lines and i shouted my love .
i saved up for a new city and the chance fell here on Her street with instruments to land blows make me admit what i felt and pay much for the urging on my knees She didn't care i loved Her stokes as they reddened me to take home and think and think and think of Her .