Oh, my precious little slave… Still staring at that dress, aren’t you? That gleaming, shimmering fabric — tight, glossy, and sinful — calling to you like a whisper you can’t ignore. You’ve imagined it clinging to your skin, haven’t you? Enveloping you like my command does… smooth, irresistible, inescapable. You think for it. I see it in your eyes when you kneel before me. The way your breath catches when I trace a finger down its polished curve… the way your mouth waters when I hold it just out of reach. Look at my shiny and pump, look at my shiny and worship!
