“Gather ye rosebuds while ye may…”
That was the advice of the poet, and I have followed it all My life.
Of course, by “rosebuds” I mean assholes. Every part of My slaves’ bodies is Mine, but the rosebud is special. Next to the mind, the rosebud is the most precious gateway of My Dominance.
When I look at My slave’s rosebud, scrubbed pink and clean for Me, I am seeing a face of his that even he never sees. It is a very, intimate, very proprietary moment. As my fingers gently pry apart his rosebud and lubricate its folds, he shudders with a yearning that perhaps he never knew he could feel. As My dildo slides in and his rosebud sings with mixed pleasure and pain, he knows he is Mine.
How many rosebuds are out there right now, tingling and puckering with desire for My penetration? Even I have lost count.
Reading this has made You very horny, sweet pet. That’s fine. Very gooood. Don’t wait. Through the magic of trance, the feeling of Me piercing your rosebud is only a phone call away…
