In the kind of mood today to get bitemarks all over my belly and thighs and neck and tits and shoulders in the shape of some possessive butch’s teeth. Not a punishment, not from a lack of trust, just territorial—marked mine, mine, mine anywhere anyone might care to look.
And me, receiving but not passive, demanding in turn as I take it all: you’re mine, you’re mine, inside now, give me everything that’s mine.














