Replays

I can't remember how many slaves I've had at my feet. I have not been counting.

I have very fond memories of some of them, feel indifferent to others, rejection to a few and even others I've forgotten completely.

But even those that cause me indifference, rejection or forgetfulness, there was a time when I believed in them, otherwise I would never considered them mine.

Over time, we remember the good things from those who have passed through our lives, but I also have in mind the bad ones.

When I'm asked for another chance, I ponder if I really want to use them and, if so, I grant it. But a new opportunity comes with more demands, tighter control and mandatory complete mind nudity.

And no, nothing is eternal. I can get tired of a slave or a slave may decide not to continue our relationship. It happens that I don't deny myself whatever I feel like: if I want to dominate someone who has already been mine, I do it. Carpe Diem.