If I did not love you, I would not bother to write about you, much less try to get you to tap into your emotions and express them.
You need all of your brain, body, and soul in this world we are now seeing and experiencing.
I certainly would not make it my business to piss you off by calling you Predator if I did not love you.
Truth be told I really don’t like that arrogant, snooty, foul energy you seem to enjoy bathing in–it makes you stink to high hell just like the ones who built it up in this town.
I tend to ignore people like that because they remind me of the greedy, selfish, and delusional Romans populating Satyricon.
You are, indeed, a notable exception, mentoring and inspiring me with your adherence to entertaining these petty hens and cocks who leave a trail of wretched wrecks and twisted ornaments with your pretty face and your lovely mouth open for treats from your own Master’s cock.
I do love you, dear one. Now kiss me, Master, and do share your Master’s semen with your tongue in my mouth again.