I am perfectly aware of my wants/needs. I understand that having the feeling of someone at your feet, their head in your lap, catering to your every whim is more than just a sexual fetish. This is a part of my being. I deserve to be worshipped. I live for those moments when a woman’s eyes twinkle and say “Yes, Goddess. How may I please you, Ma'am?” I desire to create markings upon her flesh like I was writing love letters with my floggers. I want to bound her to a headboard and type stories behind her cervix…
But as a princess, well hell.
How do I explain this?
Writing out my submissive thoughts now excite me.
No, I’m not owned but I want to be good for you.
I want to service you in ways that only you deem fitting.
I want you to dress me.
I want you to have study dates with me and nurture me into the good girl I know I can be.
I want to surrender.
I want to have no worries in your lap.
Submission becomes desire.
Desire becomes power.
And submissives are the most powerful playing piece on the board.