Follow My Voice

Let my voice be the bridge that connects your deepest, most intimate desires to your submission.

Let my voice slip into your mind—slow, strong, and hungry. This is your sanctuary. A sanctuary of surrender, where your desires don’t just bloom—they burn. Let me take you deeper, past the noise, past the lies you tell yourself about what you “should” want. Down where it’s raw. Where your darkest, hottest truths live. That’s where I’ll meet you. That’s where I’ll own you.

Feel my words wrap around you, like a collar tightening around your neck reminding you who holds the leash. Breathe in. Let it pull you under. Every syllable is a command, every pause a promise: You are mine now. Your skin prickles, doesn’t it? Goosebumps racing along your spine like whispers of a promise you can’t take back. Your heart hammers, greedy for more, for me. Let it. Let it race. Let it ache.

You’ll feel everything—everything—as I carve my way into your mind. My voice, low and molten, will stroke you like fingers tracing down your belly, leaving trails of fire in their wake. You’ll arch into the words, into the need, because I’ll make you want it. Make you beg for the weight of my dominance to press you into the mattress, hold you down, make you mine. Your body already knows the truth.

And when I speak, when I tell you how wet you are, how desperate, how your nipples tighten like they’re begging for my teeth—that’s when you’ll shatter. Not from touch. From the sheer, animal thrill of belonging to me. Your fantasies won’t hide in shadows anymore. I’ll drag them into the light, set them ablaze, and feed you the flames until you’re gasping, thank you, thank you, thank you, because only I see you. Only I see how beautifully, fiercely you were made to serve.

This is your freedom. The kind that comes from giving everything up. Let me take it. Let me take you.

You’re safe.

You’re mine.

You’re free.