844-332-2639 ext. 205
Some people ask why I call them pet. I know its a colloquialism, but the thing is, we’re all owned. The thing is, pet. I rule, and I know I do, and you know I do. The privilege of being kept, of being owned. You know you need it. You have to admit that you’re blessed to be able to be treated like this.
I don’t ask you to love me, you’re supposed to. I don’t hold out my heel and command you to lick my toes, you do so because I’ve graciously not objected. Your families, your bosses, everyone owns you. The difference is they’re not me.
I’m a good pet owner, I make sure that a creature in my care receives the best attentions and affections I can provide it. Of course, it’s not in charge. You’ll never be in charge of me. But even if you’re not man enough to tame me doesn’t mean you can’t experience me.
You know deep down that if you don’t bow your head and whimper and beg me for more and listen to my sinful commands and feel my devious touch someone else will use you. But then nobody else is going to be able to do it the way that I am.
It’s not the tool, its the people that uses them. Pet, I really know how, exactly, to use a tool. Give the gift of letting me use you to yourself. You deserve it, I know because I’ve decided you do. But don’t worry to much. There’s going to be no escape regardless once you’ve experienced the privilege of submitting to me. You’re going to know exactly what it feels like and never be able to not submit to me again.
Austra
844-332-2639 ext. 205