I had a dream that I had a slave named Angel. He wasn’t an angel; far from it actually, he reminded me of myself alot. I don’t know why I remember this dream so well. Angel was a fat ass ex marine who told me he needed someone to keep him in line. I wasn’t sure if I was the one for the job but somehow he led me to believe that I was more than enough. I was overcome with pity for him, he seemed so genuine and sweet, he brought calm to my soul. The next thing I remember is that I’m stepping on his face with my 8 inch platform dancing shoes and grinding my heel into his ear drawing blood. Telling him he’s a fat ass pussy bitch who should cut off his worthless dick.
It’s such a strange dream to remember, but it seems to just go along with all my others here lately. I think that book I bought about the Dominatrix named Princess Spider put it into my head.
--oh and I really loved the way it felt to be in control.
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