Do you ever want to let go of your humanity and disappear into your wild, primal, animal self? A mindless, ravenous, sexual beast? Give yourself into those passions?

I often ask men I am with to let go. Let go of all that civilization and take me like the beast that they are. And yet, men value their control- control of themselves and control of the situations. I don’t think that men can completely let go. I think they are afraid of hurting us, or of losing themselves, or even of going to a place where they cannot fight their way back from. Perhaps men are more primal then women at a basic level, and that dance is too close to the abyss for them.

So then I am drawn to the idea of the woman as the wild creature. Desperate, insensate, driven by the need to orgasm, over and over again. Perhaps it is because we can orgasm and be ready again for whatever delights await. Do we need to be controlled or stop our bodies from cumming to soon lest all play end? Or can we simply give into the tempests storming our body for it stops no one’s pleasure?

But take it a step further? What if you could change a woman into a creature who existed only for your pleasure? A beautiful, voracious being whose sole being was for your sexual desires? Her only need to be played with? Desperate, hungry orifices for whatever you could contemplate?

I’ve read about the idea of ‘Bimbo-ization’ or turning a woman into fuckslut. (how I hate that term) Stupid and ready to go; ready to be your whore. Then there are others who want to take dehumanisation further and delve into puppy and pony play or hucows. Intellectually, it seems so false to me. Fine, of course, in prose, but can it really happen?

Sometimes when I dream about being the Ultimate Pet, I wonder if I could be bimbo-ized? Or would it always be a role I would have to sink into? In the past, I have mentioned my response to alcohol, and how it does really make me an oversexed creature. Yet there comes a time when one has to sober up. If only for the effect to still work.

And yet… What if one could become a blank canvas. Or the canvas you both desire? How could I be that creature I wish that I could be? Existing only for sex- both as something to be used and reinvented and a receptacle for your… gratification? My slick lady garden, waiting and hungry; my breasts full and engorged with milk to please you? Dewy pearls streaming from me, just aching for your tongue. Dressed up, corsetted, naked or painted. Whatever you dream of… Whatever you desire. Something you want. Something you are obsessed with. My lips soft and painted; ready to suck on your fingers… ready to kiss your manhood… ready to take you into my mouth, my big eyes staring up from so far below… staring into your own as I pleasure you.

Anything you want! Anything you desire! Imagine it! What would that be? Would you pump your hot seed into me… over and over again? Would it give you pleasure to watch it, leaking out from my cleft and down my thighs- proof of your potency? Could you find endless amusement in fingering me… stretching me… fisting me… exploring me? Or even, despite knowing my reservations, taking me in the back passage, for my entire body is your playground. And I am your pet. I exist only for your pleasure. Your deepest, darkest, most creative and erotic fantasies. Those ideas you have in the dark of the night.

It excites me. The thought of the freedom, and equally exquisite captivity? Even if your desires aren’t the same as mine… it doesn’t matter. I belong to you. I exist for you.

I am a wild creature… the ultimate pet. I need you to take me and tame me. Turn me into that one thing which you do not have and yet need so desperately.

A dream for both of us.