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There is something about the woman who bends her exterior to comply with the feminine nature of her spirit. The willful consciousness of the femininity, perhaps. It is entrancing, intoxicating, gravitational in its erotic allure.

“When she's abandoned her moral center and teachings...when she's cast aside her facade of propriety and lady-like demeanor...when I have so corrupted this fragile thing and brought out a writhing, mewling, bucking, wanton whore for my enjoyment and pleasure.....enticing from within this feral lioness...growling and scratching and biting...taking everything I dish out to her.....at that moment she is never more beautiful to me. ”
― Marquis de Sade