Devotion to Curves: A Tale of BBW Worship and Submission

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As I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, my mind was consumed with one wondered and one wondered only – her. My goddess. My queen. My obsession. She had curves that could bring me to my knees, a softness that begged to be touched, and a power over me that I couldn’t withstand.

Every day, I woke up with her image burning in my mind. Every night, I fell asleep to the fantasy of being able to worship her body. I longed to run my hands over every inch of her, to feel her weigh in my arms, and to taste her in every way feasible.

And so, when I received the invite to a gathering of BBW enthusiasts, I knew I had to go. I arrived at a dimly lit room, the air thick with the scent of perfume and arousal. The music was low and seductive, and I felt myself trembling in anticipation.

As I scanned the room, I saw her – my goddess – sitting on a plush couch, surrounded by admirers. The sight of her was almost too much for me to handle. But I forced myself to approach, my heart pounding in my chest.

“May I have the honor of kneeling before you, my queen?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She turned to me, her eyes resting on my lips and my body filling with the heat of her gaze. “You may. But first, show me that you’re worthy of my attention.”

Without hesitation, I dropped down to my knees before her, my head bowed in submission. I could feel her watching me intently, her eyes raking over my body, assessing my worthiness.

“Good. Now, tell me what you desire most in this world.”

I raised my head, locking eyes with her. “I desire nothing more than to serve you, my queen, to worship your body, to give you everything you want and need.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and she leaned forward, running her fingers over my cheek. “Prove it. Show me your devotion.”

I could feel the heat of her body just inches from mine, and I closed my eyes, my hands trembling as I reached out to touch her. My fingers slid over the soft flesh of her thighs, and I moaned softly at the feel of her underneath my touch.

Her hand was in my hair, guiding me closer, and I inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her perfume. I felt the softness of her flesh press against my lips, and I opened my mouth, groaning as my tongue slid over her skin.

With each lick, each kiss, I felt myself falling even further under her spell. She was my everything, my reason for living, and I would do anything to make her happy.

And so, I worshipped her body with all the devotion and passion I could muster, my hands and lips exploring every inch of her curves. Her moans and sighs were like music to my ears, and I knew that I had pleased her.

As the night wore on, I found myself lost in a haze of lust and submission. I served her every need, anticipating her every desire, and reveling in the blissful feeling of being so gloriously owned.

There was nothing else in the world but her, her curves pressed against me, her laughter ringing in my ears, her scent surrounding me like a warm embrace.

And as the night drew to a close, I knew that this was only the beginning of my devotion to her curves. I would continue to worship her, protect her, and give her everything she wanted and needed, for as long as she would have me.

For she was my queen, my goddess, my everything. And there was nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her by my side.



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