You know who you are.
You feel weak at the site of stilettos and black stockings. You dream of being seduced by a busty Femme Fatale who wants to control and manipulate you, imprison you; sensually, physically, sadistically, fully.
You are not the person that others think you are. You are tired of pretending. You have humiliating thoughts that permeate your mind. You have needs and desires that can’t be voiced. You need to escape. You need someone else to take control of those thoughts, those needs, those actions. Others think you are happy and successful, but we both know you are needy, on the verge of losing control, and broken.
I will break you further, then rebuild you to my liking. I will own you. Mold you. Add you to my collection of perfectly perverted play things and devotees. My perveratti.
I’m not easy to please. I’m not easy to impress. But you are going to work hard to do both, Aren’t you.
You know WHAT you are. And so do I.
I look forward to teasing, tormenting and molding you into something more entertaining than that boring suited drone you are now. I know that beneath that suit beats the heart of a true deviant.