When sleep misses the call,
The mind wakes up on her own.
Laying lazily between my sheets
I close my eyes and begin to dream.

His eyes are pure fire, sizzling my skin.
His hands, made of ice, guide me straight into sin.
He is the prince of my fantasies, the king of lust.
He has me there, in bed. His power over me is profoundly unjust.

He whispers, "Naked, I wish for my little one to be."
His spell undresses me, my whole body for him to see.
He watches, and soon a hand kneads and spreads.
The same hand lowers over my ass, painting it cherry red.

"Good girl." He uses those words to bring fire to my blood.
And soon, I'm sinking in his will, stuck in his velvety mud.
Another slap strikes the milk of my derriere, with strength
Before he uncovers my soaking folds. Ah! The joyful vision for his length.

His fingers have no compassion for my aching, pulsing clit
They move fast, with agility, up and down they go. They don't miss a hit.
"No pleasure for now, for I am the rightful owner of your moans,"
He says, with a devilish grin, while he watches me shaking through every one of my bones.

Slap! A dry echo breaks the silence of the room. Juices spilled all around.
Another one follows right after. He tortures me. He likes that suffocated sound.
I beg and pray and seek desperately for his eyes.
When finally he nods, almost with sweetness, to my greater surprise.

The clasp of the orgasm finally takes me in its possession.
I cry out loud and my body stretches and turns. Such a powerful impression.
I open my eyes and look around my room
My hand still sinking in my panties, cuddling my heated womb.

"Good job, little one," his voice still very present in my mind.
"Now for our second game, though, Master won't be so kind."
He warns as I let myself go, again, against my pillow, sighing.
"I'll have my little one all night, begging her Master for cumming."