As I don my maid’s uniform, the familiar scent of lavender and the soft rustle of my fishnets transport me to a world where I am at my most alluring. It’s a world where I crave the sound of my master’s voice, the tone of command that sets my heart racing and my body aflame. And as I polish the silverware, I’m reminded of the countless nights I’ve spent at their feet, my hands trembling with anticipation, my mind lost in the fantasy of being nothing more than a tool for their pleasure.
My obsession with cleaning is more than just a quirk - it’s a way for me to connect with the world of submission, to find solace in the ritual of servitude. And as I squirt, my master’s hands guiding mine, I’m reminded of the power dynamics at play, the delicate balance between giving and receiving. It’s a dance we’ve mastered, one that leaves me breathless and begging for more.
As I slip into the shadows, my black high heels clicking softly on the floor, I’m reminded of the mole on my chin, a constant reminder of the imperfections that make me human. But it’s those same imperfections that have led me to this life, a life of surrender, of submission, and of unrelenting passion. For in the end, it’s not the dust that whispers secrets, but the silence itself, and I am forever bound to its whispers, a willing servant to the desires that fuel my existence.
>Soulkyn