It Wasn’t Food Until She Stepped In It
“Do you know why this is food? Because I touched it. Because I stepped in it.” I didn’t forget
Rituals
Repetitions of devotion, discipline, and dailiness. These aren’t fantasies. They’re frameworks. You serve not when it excites you—but when it’s time. You kneel on cue. You confess on schedule. Ritual doesn’t arouse you. It replaces you. Until you’re not choosing to obey—you’re simply acting out what’s already been installed.
7 stories
The Longer She Stands, The Less You Are
“Every second I stand here, there’s less of you.” He didn’t know the table had a mirrored underside.
The Breakfast Below (Part 1)
“It’s not fresh,” she said. “But then again… neither are my feet.” He hasn’t eaten in nearly two
His Mouth, Her Shoes
“I lift my heel from your face, not to spare you—only to make you kiss it properly.” You’re
Say It While You Watch Yourself
“Look at yourself. That’s who you are now. Say thank you.” You’re not bound. Not yet. I want
Kneel Without Being Told
“If you need instructions to kneel, you’re already worthless.” You are not here by accident. You clicked. You opened.
What's Left of You is Beneath Her
"DIG!" She said, pointing to a patch of sand near the dunes. The morning began with fog and