Golden Shower

You kneel because you choose to and because you know exactly who I become when you do.

I don’t have to raise my voice to dominate you. I don’t need ropes or restraints. All I do is look down at you and you’re already offering yourself and waiting for whatever I decide you’re ready for.

There’s a quiet thrill in that moment, in the stillness right before surrender.
You feel it. I feel it.
That tension between control and release, between your obedience and my amusement.

You like when I stand over you.
You like when I treat you like something built to receive what I give and not because you’re weak, but because you want to feel the edge of my power. You want the humiliation, the approval and the ownership wrapped up together.

And I enjoy watching you anticipate it. The way your breath changes, the way your eyes stay fixed on me and the way every part of you waits for my permission.

You’re here to be claimed and I am here to mark my territory.
I’m here to remind you just how deeply you crave that.

Because when I tell you to open yourself to me, you do it without hesitation.
And that, my darling boy, is where the real pleasure lives:
not in the act itself,
but in the way you surrender before it even happens.

The golden part isn’t the act.
It’s the power.
The dynamic.
The moment you let yourself be completely owned by my will.

That’s what I take from you.
That’s what you give me.
And that’s why you stay exactly where I put you.

At my feet.
Under my gaze. Waiting to feel the warmth of My golden shower hit your chest.
Waiting for whatever comes next.