The Weakest Sex
Alright, slave. You can look freely now. Trace your eyes up the curves of my hips, the flat of my stomach. Study my breasts. My eyes. My hair.
I'm perfect, aren't I?
Well, you'll say anything if you think it will please me.
But still, it's something, isn't it? The... feminine allure, I believe they call it. I never could have taken you as far as I have if it hadn't been for the fact that every part of me brings your throbbing little penis to attention, sends it pushing up against the confines of your chastity belt again and again and again. It's because of all these things that I have power over you, and you have none over me.
You're a slave to desire, dear, and me? I'm the one holding the leash.
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