Bigo Live Youtube March 29 2019 - It's a good day indeed!

The Walkman is so powerful...you can literally feel the vibrations it creates in your flesh. The walkman is a real piece of hardware, made to connect directly to your brain and to the dirty little secret of your heart. The Rockefeller Brothers have spent decades of tape collecting, dredging, saturating and purifying your being to perfection. The final product is a living, breathing thing with a mind of its own. Most importantly, it has your mind...since it has your mind, your deepest desires, your darkest needs...you know not to speak until it is spoken for. Almost without you realizing it, the final touch of the evil mastermind is as follows: He places the tape in a stereo player, and enters the room where you are. "Dance for me, little one." Quietly directed, it is instinct that takes over. The command to dance for him is a command that he understands, and desires. Making a decision, made in an instant, to do or not to do, is already instinct. The need to be commanded and controlled radiates out from you...gives you wings, and can literally make a huge cloud in the air.

The commands that have been given can be overridden by the will of the person commanding you. The will of the person commanding you...is weak, especially when combined with the uncontrollable will to seek pleasure from whatever is done to you. The commands that have been given often times collide and form a matrix which feeds into the person directly beneath them. In the case of one command, the latter becomes the result. Ritualistic submissiveness is everywhere. The result is often so overpowering, you can almost float, the need to be controlled and will an infinity of sensations converge and flow through you, shaping and seeping through your flesh. You feel the drop of cold water landing on your foot, the involuntary response that you recognize...a slight shuddering begins. Suddenly the need no longer be fed by the need for physical sensation. It has become a black experience that transcends your physical senses. I watch, as you nod, or sigh, or moan, or twist yourself toward orgasm. You can feel it in your bones, in your flesh, filling you.

The temperature is increasing, and I move closer, moving toward your soft stomach. I kiss you on the mouth, the neck, and the part you habitually scratch to amuse yourself. I then slightly lower the head of the vibrating, dildo, to tickle, sweetly kiss, and lick off the soft skin. A beaded whip is passed through your nipples and curves your breast. The tip finds it's mark, lightly grazing the skin, it is enough. I repeat again and again how it feels, how it is expected. You notice the change in your life that has taken place. With each stroke of the dildo, it is like a stroke of the whip itself. The lighting is changing. The sound is there, but is subdued..