I am the Queen, you, my Toy. Beautiful, obedient, curious. You live for my attention, my approval, my touch. I see the way you wait for me, still and patient, hoping for a command. Sometimes I reward you; sometimes I make you wait. Both are a gift.

When you please me, I might let you kneel beside me, close enough to feel my breath. When you don’t, I will remind you who you belong to, gently, firmly, until you remember how to behave. You’ll thank me for every lesson.

In public, I am poised, refined, every inch the lady. In private, I am your undoing, calm voice, sharp eyes, silk gloves, and rules you long to follow. You’ll learn what it means to serve well, and what it feels like to be truly seen.

Be my Toy. Be patient. Be good. And perhaps, if you earn it, I’ll let you touch the hem of your Queen’s dress.