My partner and I went out to play games yesterday, and they wore a crop top that very blatantly showed off all of their pretty bite marks that I had given them - such vivid colors to show off their lovely little wings for me. Green, purple, blue, black, red, pink, all decorating their shoulder blades for anyone to see.
I loved it, and it got me so worked up every time I looked over and saw them leaning over, letting them shine in the light, almost daring anyone to say anything to them. Oh, and people looked. I caught dozens of glances and raised eyebrows, and that just stoked the fire even more for me.
That’s right. That one’s mine. They love being mine. They want you to see that they’re mine. They want you to know that you can look all you want, go ahead, they know that they’re the sexiest person in the room, and they want you to be envious of me.
They want you to know that they have all of the power in the room, but no matter what - at the end of the day that power is mine. They want you to know that once you go home daydreaming of their body, they are pinned beneath me, powerless and whimpering in pain, growling in satisfaction, crying out in pleasure, swearing to my names and my titles that they’re mine, they’ll behave, they want to behave and give all of it to me.
All as I decorate their body, with tooth and claw and grip, again and again and again and again, all while holding up that pretty head by the hair and fucking every last thought out of it.
