Leather boots, laced all the way up my thighs. You're aching to get closer. Desperate to be within inches of my leather boots. What would you give for the opportunity to worship them?

You’re not just some random lurker anymore. You’re my little goon toy. And toys don’t think, they just react. They crave Me. And they come back exactly where they’re told. Every time you see me, you'll sink a little deeper. Every word wrapping around your thoughts, tightening, guiding. You don’t need to resist it... you don’t want to. It feels better to give in, to let yourself sink right into that endless loop.

Mistress has checked her list, and checked it twice. Turns out you're naughty... with no chance at being nice.