Dear Mistress,

Thank you for the command to describe the most extreme scenario I’d like to scene with you.

I’m aware of the immense privilege you grant me by simply allowing me to be in your presence. Getting to play with you is an absolute honor, and you are perfection itself.

I am positive that a domina of your experience has engaged in forniphilia before. You know, human furniture?

If I may paint the picture: I am bound inside a leather chaise lounge. Blindfolded, the contours of my body only slightly poking up behind the cushion.

I have been left and ignored for what feels like hours. The room smells of incense, and my mind is already in subspace, thinking only about you.

Then a sound breaks the silence: a door then footsteps. They are yours, walking over to me. You pay me no mind at all.

With zero care for my safety, you throw yourself onto the lounge, and you begin to just do you. Maybe you begin to read a book, and I feel every little movement my goddess makes as she reads.

Perhaps you grab your phone and call a friend, and I end up hearing you talk about your new chaise lounge, and how unimportant it is, feeling a strike of your foot every now and then, telling me to settle down.

Or maybe you play a video game, and I feel every excited bounce, angry stomp, focused lean, and triumphant stand upon me, holding up the goddess like an obedient pedestal.

Or something along those lines, mistress. I would never DREAM of telling you what to do, or topping from the bottom.

For me, the pleasure comes from service. Labor is my kink, and am beyond grateful that you took my personal perversions to heart. I long to be your seat, and you are absolutely radiant.

I hope this letter finds you well, mistress.

A kiss to each toe.

Know that I am forever your faithful, obedient dog, and that every little thing you do turns me on.

From the heart,

BGL

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