I speak often about the hunger that drives my dominance. Really, when I am in it, that’s all I write about, in different ways, with different contexts: I am essentially just saying the same thing over and over.
I have a passionate crazy hunger that I ache to let loose, that I look to escalate and satiate, a feeling that makes me want to strip the very skin off my boy’s bones so I can shove myself inside him.
When I’m single, and it’s dormant, though, I wonder if it ever existed at all. I remember it, of course, but … Continue Reading