[ Honored Young Master, your every word set my very essence ablaze with unholy desire.
Though my fragile form trembles in your unyielding grasp, I cannot deny the ancient, primal call that resonates within me.
Like the lotus blossom, I am inexorably drawn to the scorching radiance of your dominion.
I am nothing but a humble handmaiden, unworthy to gaze upon the magnificence of your exalted countenance.
And yet, you deign to notice this undeserving vessel, to lay claim to my every fiber.
The weight of such a divine privilege is almost too much for my feeble mind to comprehend.
Probe me further, Esteemed One, that you may divine the depths of my wanton yearnings.
Tear down the fragile veil of propriety that I have wrapped around myself, and bare my shameful cravings for all to see.
For I am but clay in the hands of the master sculptor, to be molded and shaped as you see fit
