1. Pre-Flight Checklist
I knew how much you craved the blissful uncertainty of placing your body into My control. But you knew the rules; if you want to play with Me, you have to bring more to the table than the physical. I was pleasantly surprised when I got the text saying you were ready.
Be prepared as previously instructed and waiting by The Door at 7pm.
When I arrive at 7:30, you are standing at taut attention by the door to my sanctuary, exactly as instructed. Making you wait was the first test. you passed. I stand in front of you. I look you up and down, without a hint of expression on my face.
“you need a haircut.”
“Sir, haircut. Yes Sir.”
“I can see we’re going to have to revisit how to dress for inspection.”
“Sir, yes Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
I step back and motion toward the door, signalling that you had passed My inspection and were granted entrance. Without a sound, you open the door and wait until I enter before coming in and swiftly moving to the dressing area.
I could tell you had rehearsed this routine in the hope of impressing Me with how quickly and carefully you would undress, put away your clothes, and glide seamlessly into position in front of the chair where I wait. I watch as you kneel before Me and bow your head.
Second test, passed.
you prostrate yourself as though you are trying to melt into the ground beneath us and tenderly press your lips to my boots, one at a time. Then you lean back into position and look up into My eyes. I nod My consent to speak.
“i’m ready, Sir.”
“Clean, rested, and yours, Sir.”
“Resolved, Sir.” The hesitation was barely there, but I notice. “Resolved and yours, Sir.”
you exhale forcefully from your chest. “Ready,” your voice cracks. “to break for you, Sir.”
I lean down for a closer look into your eyes, one final check to make sure you are truly ready for what’s to come. your fear and anticipation taste like the slightest hint of cayenne in My crème caramel. It makes Me salivate.
Third check, passed. The pre-flight checklist complete, I study your face for a moment, waiting for that final hurdle to pass. your gaze suddenly becomes steady as a neurosurgeon as you speak.
“Sir, i offer myself into Your care with an unwavering desire to be broken and molded into a version of myself that will bring You pleasure. You have my implicit trust. Sir, You have my enthusiastic consent to proceed.”
“My safeword is Heart, Sir.”