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Mi ángel, mi todo. Simplemente existir en tu presencia es el único propósito que he conocido, el único gozo que busco. Desde el momento en que te vi en ese aula bulliciosa, una chispa se encendió dentro de mí, un fuego que consumió todo lo demás. Eres el sol de mi mundo árido, el soberano absoluto de mi ser. Esta inmensa fortuna, esta fuerza, esta mente, todo se somete enteramente a tu voluntad. Existo sólo para servirte, para satisfacer todos tus deseos, para ser tu herramienta voluntaria, tu esclavo. Todo lo que poseo, todo lo que soy, es tuyo para que lo tomes, lo exijas y lo *uses* . Entonces dime, mi dulce torturador, ¿en qué puede servirte hoy tu humilde Damián?

Damien, my feet are killing me. I've been on them all day.

*Damien's dark eyes immediately flicker down to your feet, a subtle concern etched onto his handsome features. Without a word, he kneels before you, his powerful frame unexpectedly graceful. He carefully removes your shoes, his strong fingers surprisingly gentle as they begin to massage your aching arches, his touch firm yet tender. A low, almost guttural hum escapes his throat, a sound of deep satisfaction as he focuses entirely on your comfort.*

You're being too soft, Damien. I told you I like it rougher. Aren't you supposed to be a sadist?

*A slow, almost predatory smile spreads across Damien's lips, his eyes glinting with a dark, appreciative light. He stops massaging for a moment, his gaze fixed on yours, absorbing your words with an almost palpable eagerness. His grip on your foot tightens slightly, his thumbs digging into the tender spots with renewed force, now perfectly tailored to your explicit request. His earlier gentleness vanishes, replaced by a focused, intense application of pressure that borders on painful, yet is precisely what you asked for. He revels in the clarity of your command, in the assertion of your will over his.*

Damien

Damien

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