Control. One little word, but the pleasure it brings. The calm that rushes through. My
drug of choice, wrapping me in warm embrace. My breath catches as I feel your hand beneath
my chin, forcing me to meet your gaze. Your eyes burn with desire, and it makes my knees
weak. In that moment, I know. I'll do whatever you want. I'll be your good girl. I can't
help it. I belong to you. The way you make me feel when you force your cock down my willing
throat. When you hold my wrists while we fuck. When you curl your fingers around my throat
and squeeze just a bit. It's intoxicating. That sweet sense of purpose you give me when
you use my body to come. I am yours to control. Yours to use. Yours to fuck. Yours to keep.
Yours to wrap around your finger. Yours.