I’m the kind of woman who wakes up already wet, thinking about how many ways I can break every rule before breakfast. Silk ropes, leather cuffs, dripping wax, needles, breath play, filthy words whispered while I edge you for hours… nothing is off-limits. I crave the rush of pushing bodies and minds right to the edge and then dragging them over it, smiling the whole time.
I’ll dress like sin in latex that clings to every curve, heels sharp enough to leave marks, and a smile that promises I’ll ruin you in the sweetest way possible. I want your tears, your screams, your desperate begging; whether I’m pinning you down or spreading myself open for whatever twisted thing you’ve dreamed of doing to me. , pleasure, , worship… I devour it all. I don’t have a safe word because I don’t need one. I was built for excess.

I’ve got no limits