I’ll never become one of the things he owns, yet…
Dominance overflows his being, oozing from his pores. I fall prey to his uniquely hypnotic language and arousing, possessive touches.
Fear pinches my tendons before the leather tongue flicks my clit. In my gulping sobs, I hate him.
Then, he knees my thighs apart, pierces the pain, and my screams of relief make me forget.
Viscous evidence of his desire for me drips down my thigh. I love him.
I’ve become a masochist to the splintering mind-fuck of submission, yet…
