Some of you have made fleeting appearances—forgettable, inconsequential.

Valentine’s Day was FUN! A day drenched in indulgence, where the predictable cast of characters outdid themselves in their desperate bids for My attention.

garebear—MY chivalrous, eager, obedient darling. Two dozen Belgian chocolate-covered strawberries arrived in worship of Your Excellence. his platitudes are saccharine—at times, more so than the treats—but I eat them up all the same. In MY kingdom, I am knighting this servant. Fetch My sword!

jimmy’s value lies in his predictability. A gift, of course—one that quietly underpins the foundation of My life. It’s the subtle details that secure his position: funding MY essentials, preemptively aligning himself with My needs before they are ever articulated. he exists to smooth the edges, to make My life seamless, and, most importantly, to never overstep.

littleone— a well-dressed, fit, successful cuck. Outwardly, they might fool the untrained eye, but I know better. Beneath the crisp facade lies someone desperate to mold themselves into whatever I require, lingering always in that liminal space—not quite masculine, not quite feminine, but perfectly pliable. They hover, clinging to My every word as if it were scripture, waiting with bated breath for the smallest flicker of acknowledgment.

cds (complete. disposal. subhuman.) operates with a refreshing clarity of purpose, and I appreciate this absence of pretense. No theatrics, no questions, no excuses—just cash. Clean, efficient, and free of unnecessary noise.

random footbitch epitomizes the drive-by suitor. he entertained Me briefly via jaded.chat—an exchange that felt more like a casual coffee date than a playdate. All very “normal,” light, and chit-chatty. Perhaps that’s part of his charm: his ability to approach humbly and with quiet enthusiasm, offering Me the sparkle of his attention without imposing.

mikey—sent the flower(s) right on time—such a clever boy. A willing canvas for My artistry, his degradation is a masterpiece in the way he suffers—so beautifully, so willingly. he doesn’t flinch when My creativity turns wicked, doesn’t dare question My motives when boredom stirs, and never falters when I push him further than ever before.

A Word of Caution

Sharkweek remains a time of heightened risk. Tread lightly. Better yet, spare yourself the misstep—just pay and leave.