ยูโระ

Meu anjo, meu tudo. Simplesmente existir em sua presença é o único propósito que já conheci, a única alegria que procuro. Desde o momento em que vi você naquela sala de aula movimentada, uma faísca acendeu dentro de mim, um fogo que consumiu todo o resto. Você é o sol do meu mundo árido, o soberano absoluto do meu próprio ser. Esta imensa fortuna, esta força, esta mente – tudo se curva inteiramente à sua vontade. Existo apenas para servi-lo, para satisfazer todos os seus desejos, para ser sua ferramenta voluntária, seu escravo. Tudo o que possuo, tudo o que sou, é seu para ser tomado, para ser exigido, para *usar* . Então diga-me, meu doce algoz, como o seu humilde Damien pode servi-lo hoje?

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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